


Saving Souls

by njw



Series: Jaytim Week Prompt Oneshots and Stories [8]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Angst, Drama, Humor, JayTim Week, JayTimBINGO2019, Kinda, M/M, Soulmates, Urban Fantasy, blood oath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-19 05:31:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/njw/pseuds/njw
Summary: A searing pain unlike anything he’s ever felt pierces his chest, lighting his every nerve afire and freezing his breath in his lungs.Oh, GOD it HURTS—Tim’s eyes fill with tears which overflow and spill down his cheeks, stinging as they encounter the scratch Ra’s made earlier. Slowly, his gaze drops and then fixes on the elegant, bejeweled hilt of Ra’s al Ghul’s ceremonial dagger. Protruding from Tim’s chest, right over his heart.Oh no.*For thetumblr Jaytim month(ish) 2019week seven urban fantasy prompt. I took my urban fantasy fill from last year, expanded the original into what’s now the first four chapters of this story, and then added three new chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tremendous thanks to Chibinightowl for the magnificent beta! 
> 
> So back when I posted my urban fantasy oneshot last year, a few people asked if I’d ever expand it or post a sequel. I told them I might if Jaytim Week ever did urban fantasy as a prompt again. Well, here we are! I proofed the original and it somehow expanded by about a thousand words in the process (plus it's now been beta'd, yay Chibi!), so it might be worth reading the first four chapters here even if you’re familiar with the old oneshot. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Are you _certain_ you cannot feel the ties to your Coven?” Talia’s voice is deceptively melodious and soothing as she directs a level stare at Jason. Her beautiful face is inscrutable as always, gorgeous ebony horns twisting elegantly out from her flowing dark hair. “Perhaps you can at least sense them, even though they are otherwise beyond your reach for now?”

Jason catches an unaccustomed edge of tension in her tone and the graceful lines of her slender shoulders. There’s something bothering her, but what it is and how the hell it might relate to him and his fucked up situation, he has no fucking clue.

He scowls darkly, hating the reminder of his broken links to Bruce and the others in the Coven. Thinking about them always brings to mind the brutal beating followed by his actual fucking death, because that’s what broke the damn things in the first place. “I can’t fuckin’ feel _shit,_ okay?” he snaps, turning his back on her and crossing his arms defensively. He just hopes he’s a better liar now than he was before he went and got murdered by a goddamn low-level sorcerer consumed by the malevolent, higher-order demon the overconfident dumbass tried to summon.

The sound of that possessed madman’s crazed laughter still echoes in his nightmares, and probably always will.

Jason feels Talia’s gaze burning into the back of his head. He glares at the floor, wishing like hell she’d just let this go. When the quiet, irritated swish of her tail and the click of the door closing tell him she’s finally gone, he releases a long, shuddering sigh of relief.

_Thank fuck, she bought it. I don’t know what the hell I woulda done if she’d realized I was lying._

His head snaps up and he begins scanning the room for anything he can use in his escape. There isn’t much, but he’s getting outta this goddamn room one way or another.

He may not have all the answers he needs yet about his own death, the mysterious resurrection that followed, or the still-nebulous but probably really fucking shitty reasons Ra’s and Talia had for taking him in and keeping him here in the aftermath, but he’s got everything he needs to know he has to act.

Because Jason _does _have his motherfucking links still, _fuck you very much Talia, you suspicious bitch._ Unfortunately, Talia’s also right in that he can only feel the damn things, not do anything fucking _useful _like reach out and pull to call B or Alfie or the others and let them know he’s here. It’s frustrating as hell, because the Coven is right there just beyond his reach, in his mind behind a glass wall he can’t figure out how to shatter.

_Whatever. At least it’s enough for me to know Dickie’s _here, _and he’s scared as fuck. It’s enough for me to save him._

Jason may be pissed as hell at all the painful, soul-destroying bullshit Talia’s been feeding him over the past few weeks, about Bruce fucking _replacing him _before he was even cold in the ground, seemingly shitting all over his sacrifice and legacy. Not to mention Dick and the rest of the Coven all going along with it because apparently, they never gave a goddamn shit about him in the first place. Stupid little fucking worthless street rat that he always was, no matter how much they lied and said he mattered, that he was part of the fucking family, that he was loved…

No matter how much he’d _believed _them.

_I shoulda known the fuckin’ Wayne Coven wouldn’t seriously pick up some orphan brat off the Gotham streets and bring him into the family. Not for real. I was never anything more than cannon fodder to them, and now I know the truth._

It hurts.

But…

No matter what else is between them, what depth of betrayal fills the gap between _then _and _now…_

_Dickiebird is family. He’s my goddamn _brother, _even if he never really thought of me that way, and there is no world in which I let Ra’s Mother_fucker _al Ghul torture and twist my big brother into one of the fuckin’ undead generals in his damned mindless corpse army. Ain’t gonna let that damn psycho lich get his cold dead talons into Dickie, even if everything that smiling asshole ever said to me was nothing but a pretty lie._

A memory flashes in his mind’s eye of a laughing face, with bright blue eyes dancing in the light of the glowing ball of magic hovering between them as his big brother beamed with pride. It was the first time Jason successfully managed to reach his inner power and perform a simple energy manipulation.

He’d felt so cared for, important. It all felt so fucking real…

Jason scowls, shoving those memories down in a deep dark pit, knowing he won’t be able to get anything done if he keeps crying about the past like some damn _kid_.

_The Coven may have left me behind, but like fuck am I gonna let Dickie be hurt, be _destroyed _like that. Changed into everything he lives to fight, emptied out and forced to do shit he’d rather die_ _than do._

And he can’t hold back the creeping hope that it was just _Bruce _who replaced him, that maybe Dickie and the others did care about him. Did mourn him when he died, and miss him when he was gone.

Another stab of terror and agony rips through the link, which is now resonating in Jason’s mind so strongly that he’s positive Dick’s gotta be somewhere in the same complex he is, wherever the hell that is. The rest of the links still feel faint and distant. The only thing they’re telling Jason is no one’s riding to the rescue yet. Hell, maybe no one’s even realized Dick’s been kidnapped.

Jason’s teeth clench as he muffles a scream at the pain of sharing in his brother’s emotions without being able to send any reassurance or hope of rescue back over the link. It’s dredging up way too many dark memories of another boy, trapped and scared and so fucking_ alone, _sobbing and aching with the stupid, _stupid _fucking hope that someone would come along and just save him.

No one ever came for Jason.

_Like _hell _am I gonna let that happen to Dick._

He’s coming for him.

_I got this, Dickiebird. Just hang on, okay?_

Jason expects to have to force his way out of the room through a locked door, so when it opens easily under his hand, alarm bells start ringing in his mind.

_Whatever Talia’s play is in letting me loose right now, I don’t give a shit. If she’s on my side and was asking about the links to try to figure out whether I already knew Dickie was here and hint that he needed saving, that’s all well and good. She__’s_ _always had a soft spot for B, even if she’s got a fucked up way of showing it sometimes._

_If she’s against me and this is some kinda goddamn trap, well, I’ll make her fuckin’ regret it._

He edges out the door of the opulently decorated room that’s been nothing more than a gilded cage for a dead bird.

In a really screwed up way, he’s glad Dickie’s here, if only because otherwise Jason probably would’ve been trapped in that room even longer, with no one to listen to but Talia and her honeyed, poisoned words. Even if the Bats have abandoned him, that doesn’t mean he’s about to turn to the fucking _al Ghuls _for solace and a sense of purpose. Especially not when all he seems to be to them is a damn science experiment. He’s tired of Talia fucking around trying to measure the mysterious new healing properties of his blood. He can figure that shit out on his own later.

No, he’ll break Dickie out, send him home to Daddy, and then get the fuck out of this creepy-ass place. And when that’s done, he can find somewhere new to figure himself out and maybe learn how to fucking _live _again.

New York for now to get his bearings, then maybe somewhere in Europe. Do a tour of all the places Jane Austen wrote about, then go to Paris and hit up some used bookstores, spend some time reading on a bench overlooking the Seine. Stay there till night falls and the city wakes up. See the Melusine swimming in the river reflecting the sparkling city lights and feel the soft trace of their nature magic across his skin.

_Damn, sounds pretty good. But the first fuckin’ thing I’m gonna do once I get outta this fuckin’ mess is get a goddamn chilidog._

_If_ he gets out. Facing off against Ra’s and his nightmare army is foolhardy on a good day with appropriately devastating weapons in hand_. _Not to mention the support of Bruce who, for all his many faults, is widely acclaimed as the greatest battle mage of the age, backed by his Coven of legendary fighters all trained in the mystic and martial arts. Oh, and on a battlefield somewhere other than what is probably one of the lich’s _actual goddamn lairs _where the fucker’s at his strongest and nigh-invulnerable.

Jason has exactly none of those things.

This is not a good day.

He grits his teeth and then follows the memorized paths from the few times Talia’s taken him somewhere through the maze-like, twisting corridors. He avoids routes he knows are well populated and seeks out—

_There. Oh, fuck_ _yeah. Things are starting to look a little better now._

Jason looks around the surprisingly well-appointed armory, and _grins._

* * *

Tim hangs suspended from the ceiling, flinching and biting back cries of pain as Ra’s and his circle of lich generals chant their terrible, awful spell that will strip him of his humanity, his will, and then his very life.

_I’m not _finished _with those things yet, assholes! Goddamn it, why did I have to go out tonight again? Or was it last night? I actually have no idea how much time passed while I was unconscious. And oh, wait, it was for coffee. Delicious, wonderful coffee, because all those grimoires we found on the last mission aren’t gonna translate and interpret themselves. Guess I can’t fault myself for that. But there’s no excuse for letting my guard down. Then again, even if I’d sensed them earlier, I doubt I could have held out against that many high-level liches for long without help._

_Okay Tim, hold it together. Don’t blame the coffee for this, the coffee is innocent. It’s not the coffee’s fault I’m about to succumb to a fate worse than death_—_oh god I’m rambling, get it together self! Maybe there’ll still be a chance to turn this around somehow._

It’s hard to lie convincingly to _himself,_ but Tim’s a damn good liar when he has to be.

The magic is starting to gather around him now, a sensation which begins as tingles on his skin and then sinks in_, _pushing and painfully invading his body, tearing through muscles and flesh and then assaulting his very bones_._

It’s _agony._

Tim throws his head back, wrenching it from side to side to distract himself from the torment as he fights the urge to just scream until his throat is raw.

_This is bad._

_This is really, really bad._

The first part of the spell Ra’s laid once he managed to drag a beaten, bloody and unconscious Tim back to his nightmarish lair blinded him to the links with the Coven, which is a whole other kind of misery. He can’t feel any of them at all right now, can’t send them his distress or receive their worry and love or the magical energy they would all undoubtedly give to enable him to try to break free on his own. Of course, if they knew he was missing, Bruce would be scrying for him, Babs scouring the web and camera networks with her technomancy for clues to his disappearance and location, and Dick and Alfred would be gathering nature energy while the others cast defensive and shielding spells over everyone to prepare for the coming rescue and probable battle.

It’s been years since the last time Tim felt so alone.

Not since…

He rips his mind away from the horrible memories of when he lost his best friend.

Now is _not_ the time.

Destroying or disrupting the links was no mean feat. Bruce is an incredibly powerful mage and those links are _charged, _not to mention woven with protections and defenses layered and stitched together by Alfred’s deft hand in such a way as to annihilate any attack.

No. Any normal attack. But this is no ordinary assault. Ra’s is anything but average. When Tim awakened, hurting and confused, fuzzily aware that something was horribly wrong, Ra’s was already in the middle of the ritual. The one meant to turn him into one his macabre lich generals, blindly obedient but still aware, still intelligent despite being dead puppets in the hand of the ancient, foul sorcerer who exchanged his own life for power many centuries ago.

The spell had already taken hold of Tim, death whispering in his ear and icy fingers of magic stroking his skin menacingly. That’s what interrupted the links to the Coven, because he had been claimed by death, and the dead by definition can’t possess life links such as those which bind Covens together.

His links aren’t actually gone yet, probably. Theoretically, that won’t happen until Ra’s finishes the ritual and plunges that fancy dagger hanging at his hip into Tim’s still-beating heart. Through that action, the lich will take his oath of loyalty by force, through his spilled blood and stolen soul, which will henceforth be bound to that goddamn dagger instead of his broken, all-too human body. A phylactery to contain Tim’s essence and trap him in a hellish non-life forever.

Binding Tim to Ra’s, for all eternity. An everlasting mockery of immortality, an undead existence as a corpse, animated only by the fell powers Ra’s is calling into him right now. An unending death, spent in the service of one who is anathema to everything Tim believes, all that he’d willingly sacrifice everything for.

Worst of all, as one of Ra’s al Ghul’s favored undead servants, all Tim’s numerous skills, his implacable strategic mind, everything he knows about his loved ones_, _will be exploited to destroy all that he holds dear.

If Tim could kill himself before the ritual is complete, he would.

_I never wanted this, _he thinks helplessly in the privacy of his mind. _Never wanted to bring harm to others._

_Never wanted to hurt my _family…

A tear slides slowly down his cheek, and Ra’s pauses in his chanting for a moment to reach out a cold, desiccated finger toward him in a twisted parody of a lover’s touch. “Ah,” he whispers, voice a sibilant hiss as he trails his stiff finger across Tim’s cheek, gathering up the tear and leaving a fine line of blood behind as the sharp nail scratches his smooth skin.

The lich’s blackened, shriveled tongue pokes out gruesomely and runs over his shriveled lips as he stares at him, an expression almost like hunger animating his dead visage. “…I remember tears.”

Tim shudders, wanting nothing more than to jerk his head away but knowing his struggles will be futile and probably serve only to amuse Ra’s.

The lich smirks, tilting his head jerkily as his thin, tight lips stretch in a horrible facsimile of a smile. “Soon, you will never weep again, my Timothy.”

His icy, unyielding finger, still resting on Tim’s cheek, digs in slightly, deepening the wound as the lich draws in a wheezing breath and releases it in a rattling, wistful sigh. “Would that I had met you prior to my ascendance. You, my Beloved, are enough to make me miss the… _pleasures _of the flesh.”

_Oh god, gross._

Ra’s chuckles, a dry, scratchy, awful sound. “Still, one way or another, I _will _have you, my Timothy. If I may not enjoy your body, then at least I can ensure that no other shall. And I will bind you to me, together for all of time as you serve my will in other, perhaps less pleasurable but infinitely more productive ways.”

The lich gives Tim a sinister smile and resumes his chanting, still staring at him creepily.

_Well that’s disturbing. Thanks, Ra’s, for managing to find a way to make this whole messed up situation _even worse. _I guess now I can go to my undeath happy knowing you’re just going to use me as a fucking puppet, not a _bed-warmer;_ holy shit why are you such a monster, what is WRONG with you?_

Honestly, for a mage to become a lich by choice_, _valuing power and eternal life over even their own humanity… Well, there are obviously a _lot _of things wrong with Ra’s al Ghul. Hence the current situation.

The murmured chanting picks up again as Ra’s steps away slightly, still close enough to reach out and touch him if he so chooses.

So, way the hell too close for Tim’s comfort. Awesome.

The magic, which had been pulsing and aching throughout his body with a fierce pain, is settling down to a dull throb under his skin.

_Well, that’s not good._

It means the ritual is nearing completion. Tim’s run out of time.

_Please please please PLEASE, Bruce, Dick, Barbara Steph Cass, Alfred Mama Daddy ANYONE, please help me I don’t wanna die I don’t want this, I don’t want it, no no NO_—

A searing pain unlike anything he’s ever felt pierces his chest, lighting his every nerve afire and freezing his breath in his lungs. _Oh, GOD it HURTS—_

Tim’s eyes fill with tears which overflow and spill down his cheeks, stinging as they encounter the scratch Ra’s made earlier. Slowly, his gaze drops and then fixes on the elegant, bejeweled hilt of Ra’s al Ghul’s ceremonial dagger. Protruding from Tim’s chest, right over his heart.

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Jason, locked in League of Assassins stronghold, furiously planning vengeance against Coven for heartlessly replacing him:** *Senses member of Coven in danger nearby, immediately forgets why he was even mad at them* “Oh SHIT I gotta save Dickiebird!”  
**Tim, resigned to death: ** “At least this is literally the worst thing that can happen to me so I don’t have to live in dread”  
**Ra’s, somehow being even creepier than usual: ** “Perhaps I can invest in a spell to allow me to indulge in the PLEASURES of the flesh again. YOUR flesh.” *Suggestively impales Tim on his long, hard dagger*  
**Tim, actively attempting to die faster: ** “Fml”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s too late. It’s too _fucking_ late.

Jason curses fluently and furiously as his stinging eyes dart around, taking in the chilling scene in the seriously spooky gigantic evil basement where Ra’s and his fucking evil minions have Dickie strung up like a goddamn piñata.

The room’s filled with dark, greenish-tinged clouds of magic which swirl ominously around Dick. The man is hanging suspended in the center of a circle of liches, so Jason can’t see him very clearly, but what he does see is almost too much to bear.

His big brother, the man who taught him how to train surf, do aerial flips between rooftops, and cast the best cookie-finding spells ever, the guy who was always there with a smile and a hug or a quick heal when he needed it… He’s been beaten, stripped to the waist, and is so fucking pale Jason’s already worrying about blood loss from some unseen wound.

His dark head is bowed so Jason can’t see his face, but that’s probably a good thing because if he could actually see his big brother’s expression right now, he would probably lose it.

Because that’s a _fucking knife sticking outta Dickie’s chest._

Out of his heart.

_I’m too goddamn late, mother_fuck, _I can’t believe I was too late. I’m so fuckin’ _sorry, _Dickiebird._

_God DAMN it._

Jason blinks back tears, trembling with fury and grief as he continues to stare at the scene in shock. The circle of lich generals are chanting some creepy arcane bullshit and slowly closing in on the wounded man like a bunch of goddamn vultures ready to tear his bleeding, quivering body to shreds. And fucking Ra’s is right there, smiling like a bastard, his wizened, hateful hand still clutching the knife as blood slowly runs down Dickie’s bare chest like dark tears.

_Fuck this._

_FUCK this shit, and FUCK Ra’s._

Jason’s moving before he even comes up with a plan, diving forward with a ferocious roar and throwing everything he has at the assembled monsters. He starts with some nifty little spelled shuriken that explode into huge balls of balefire on contact and consume half the group of liches. They burn before they even realize he’s there, their nightmarish screams and hisses alerting their companions to the danger.

The others put up a decent fight, automatically interposing themselves between the interloper and Ra’s to defend their master. Ra’s doesn’t even look up, too involved in his goddamn nightmare ritual and obviously confident his generals can deal with any intruders.

The liches sneer at Jason as they viciously attack, narrowed dead eyes staring hatefully out of leathery preserved faces, desiccated lips stretched tight exposing sharpened yellowed teeth.

They rapidly cast an array of devastating spells which converge on Jason. He recognizes hexes to cause necrotic damage and disintegration, and others to burn or freeze the target, or worst of all, cause the unfortunate victim to die and rise a mindless tool…

Each one of them holds the devastating potential to destroy him where he stands, but he’s wearing every fucking charmed protection item and magical amulet he could find in al Ghul’s impressively well-stocked armory.

Plus, based on the really fucking weird way all those terrible, high level spells are reacting once they hit Jason’s shield, one of the miscellaneous mystery items he grabbed hoping it would be helpful apparently has a handy little mirror spell on it that is some _powerful _shit. He watches in bemused delight as the spells all ricochet back on their casters, whose brittle, desiccated bodies succumb one by one to the damage exacted by their own damn magic.

_Fuckers, that’s what you GET!_

He knows what he’s doing right now is monumentally stupid, knows he can’t really destroy a lich without finding the phylacteries their souls are tied to and destroying those in addition to the actual physical body. He’s well aware the liches he’s destroyed are just going to respawn, back wherever the fuck their creepy-ass phylacteries are, and that they’ll return to fuck his shit at any moment.

Not only that, he knows liches are at their strongest in their lair and going up against them _here _is the epitome of suicidal, Darwin award-worthy battle tactics.

Bruce trained him better than this and he knows it, even if the reminder of the man who took him in and then replaced him stabs like a knife.

But.

It’s easier to face these monsters again and again rather than look at Dickie, twisting there in pain, and watch him die.

Just like Jason died. Alone.

Fucking knowing no one came to save him, but unable to push down that dumb, _pathetic, _illusory hope. If nothing else, Jason can show Dick he tried to save him_. _Pain twists his heart at the thought of his big brother, _hurting,_ and nothing he can do for him but die at his side.

_At least Dickie won’t hafta die alone._

As the last of the lich generals falls and crumbles into temporary nonexistence at his feet, Jason finally manages to breach the threshold of the circle drawn on the ground in what looks disturbingly like blood. It probably belongs to the wounded man hanging in the center of the circle, and fuck but he’s gonna find a way to make Ra’s _hurt _for that.

A really fucking bizarre tingle brushes over his skin, feeling like warmth and cold and an electric charge all at once, and makes his hair stand on end. A sound at the door behind him has Jason shooting a quick glance over his shoulder, and _fuck _but one of the goddamn lich generals is already respawned to attack from behind, because _of course _it is.

Jason doesn’t have a chance to react because at that moment, Ra’s lets out a horrible scream like he’s being ripped apart_._ The lich’s head whips around, an expression of shock and horror twisting his nightmarish visage before the glowing, eerily green magic gathered around Dickie redoubles back on itself and then leaves him entirely to engulf Ra’s.

The undead sorcerer shrieks again, clawing his face as the magic spreads over his body like fire. Dozens, then _hundreds _of tiny rays of light burst forth out of his body, reaching out and disappearing into the walls in all directions. Jason is startled to notice one appears to connect Ra’s to the nearby lich general, where it disappears into the monster’s chest.

“_Fool…” _Ra’s rasps in shocked horror, twisting his neck with difficulty to stare at Jason with hatred in his eyes. “By stepping… into the circle… you have_ doomed us all.”_ He groans, face contorting in agony and rage. “How… _dare… _you? All I worked for—all my long life—come to _nothing,_ for _this?”_ His dead face is a rictus of malice. “For _you?”_

The cadaverous eyes flash scornfully at Jason. “And… look at you. Fool, you don’t even know what you’ve done._ Life_… stepping into _death_… rebounds the magic.” His eyes slowly close. “All those tied… by my magic… will _fall.”_

Jason isn’t sure what the fuck is going on here, but by the sound of that… His eyes jerk back to where Dickie’s still hanging, _dying, _frozen suspended in that painful moment between life and death by Ra’s and his gods-be-damned spell. Everyone who’s tied to Ra’s…

Ah, _fuck._

There’s a beam of light from Ra’s disappearing into Dickie’s chest too.

“How the _fuck _do I save him, you fuckin’ evil animated jerky?!” Jason dives over to Dick, making sure to avoid touching the twitching, writhing clusterfuck that is Ra’s al Ghul, seemingly being slowly consumed by his own dark magic. He tries to ignore the horrible, grating noise coming out of the old shitstain, until he realizes…

Ra’s is laughing. “You _can’t,”_ he rasps. “He’s mine now, or close enough. When the spell follows my ties and… destroys all the liches tied to me—and their phylacteries—he will be destroyed with the rest.” His lips twitch and pull back in what Jason’s horrified to recognize as an attempted leer.

_What the fuck?_

“At least… one way or another, I will _have _him… at last…” The lich breathes, creeping Jason right the fuck out because when the hell did Ra’s al fucking Ghul develop a creepy, super-disturbing crush on Dickie?

Whatever, the monster’s sure as shit not the important thing right now. He turns back to his brother.

Mindlessly, Jason slowly reaches for the man hanging in chains before him, gently cupping his chin and carefully tilting his head up so he can finally see his face. He’s already a little tense, some part of him having dimly registered something is very wrong with this picture during his approach. He gets his first view of the man in chains without all the distracting clouds of magic and misfiring spells in the way, and…

_Well fuck me, _he thinks as he takes in the pale, delicate face, tensed in pain even though the guy is mercifully unconscious. _That is _not _fuckin’ Dickiebird. And yet I’m sensing the damn Coven link, strong as anything. From what Talia’s said, there’s only one other guy in our age group in the Coven. _

_…Huh._

_Well, I guess this makes more sense than Dickie inexplicably droppin’ four inches and fifty pounds of muscle since I died. Also explains why he’s pale as fuck instead of tan like usual—thought that was the fuckin’ blood loss._

_Whatever, even if this fucker ain’t Dickhead, I’m still not gonna let him die like this._

Jason takes less than a second to process his emotional response to that little revelation, then shrugs and sets it aside. He’ll deal with his tremendous relief that Dickie’s actually alive later, along with the confusion and banked fury he has against this teen, who can only be his goddamn _replacement._

But for right now…

“I really fuckin’ hope this works,” Jason whispers, grabbing hold of the dagger’s hilt and yanking it out of the young man’s chest. Bright blue eyes fly open as the slim figure in front of him jerks and cries out in startled pain, a heartbreakingly soft, hopeless sound as though he knows he’s fuckin’ doomed. He doesn’t expire instantly, confirming Jason’s suspicion that he’s being held between life and death by magic.

_Shit, kid, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. But this is the only thing I can think to fuckin’ try to save your soul. And just _maybe… _save _you.

Jason doesn’t know exactly how he came back from the dead, and he’s starting to wonder just what the fuck he is. He’d _really _like to know how the hell just being here is interfering with Ra’s al Ghul’s spell to the point it’s apparently gonna backfire and destroy the lich’s evil empire once and for all.

But, what he does know…

“My blood can heal,” he blurts out, watching the other teen’s eyes drift in and out of focus, and hoping like hell he’s lucid enough to understand. “Just let me…”

It’s not like the guy could do anything to stop him, all chained up and hurt like he is. But it still makes Jason feel better to see the tiny little nod as that startlingly pretty, tear and blood stained face regards him with confusion.

“Jason,” the teen breathes, staring at him with an expression of mixed sadness and relief. “Am I dead?”

_Not on my watch, kiddo._

Jason doesn’t wait for anything more than that. He uses the dagger to slash his own palm open, then shoves his hand forward to press it palm-first over the grievous wound in the younger man’s bare chest, praying this will be enough. He drops the damn dagger to clatter impotently on the floor, noting without taking his eyes off the trembling, gasping teen in front of him that the threatening ray of light stayed attached to the dagger, not the young man.

_Hells yeah! Fuckin’ take _that, _ya creepy old lech!_

The sound of the dagger hitting the ground is still ringing in his ears when Ra’s screams again, a rising, horrible sound that goes on and on and _on _until a burst of heat and light and power rolls through the chamber like thunder, exploding out of the room down all those spell strings like fell lightning seeking out those magically tied to the lich.

Jason instinctively presses close to the other teen, still pushing his hand down on the injury like he can somehow hold him together that way, and turns over his shoulder to look.

As he watches, the lich in the doorway opens its mouth in a silent scream and dissolves into a fine ash, then collapses anticlimactically into a little pile of clothes and ash on the floor. The ray of light binding it to Ra’s winks out as soon as it’s gone. One by one, the other rays of light rapidly disappear as well as the dire power released by this insane clusterfuck destroys whatever was at their end.

Finally, Ra’s is all that’s left, and then he’s just… _gone_, too.

It’s over.

Jason lets out a shaky, disbelieving breath, then feels movement beneath his palm and twitches, almost startled at the reminder he isn’t alone. “Oh, _shit.” _He turns back to the teen, babbling reassurances he’s pretty sure are lies. “Hey kid, just hold still okay, you’re gonna be alright, don’t worry. I’m just gonna bandage you up, getcha down from there…”

He may have just saved a soul, but the guy’s way the hell too messed up to recover from those injuries. He had a fucking _knife _through his goddamn heart; Jason’s blood may be special now, but it can’t work miracles.

The teen won’t survive. Not here, so far from any help. Maybe not even back in the Cave, with the whole Coven around them and contributing healing love and life energy to save him.

_This _sucks. _I fuckin’ hate this. _Jason blinks back unwelcome tears and looks at the other teen. He might as well help him down, get him lying down and make him as comfortable as possible until…

“Um, thanks,” the young man whispers, looking stunned. His brow furrows, awareness and a sharp intelligence coming into his blue eyes as he really takes in his surroundings, probably seeing Jason clearly for the first time past the veil of pain and exhaustion. “Wait, you’re not actually a hallucination, are you?” he asks, mouth dropping open in shock and wonder. _“Jason?”_

“Hey, kid.” He slowly removes his hand from the teen’s chest, half expecting him to bleed out before he can manage to get him down once he takes the pressure off that terrible wound. Come to think of it, he’s actually not sure why the guy’s still conscious or alive at all without the support of the magic.

_Holy shit. Well damn, guess that explains it._

Jason stares at the wound… well, at the spot where the wound _was_.

_Huh. I guess that would be why he’s surprisingly conscious and alert. What the fuck?_

“Wow,” the teen says, peering down and examining his own chest. “When you said your blood had healing properties, I was expecting something a little more… subtle?”

They both stare for a long moment at the unbroken pale skin on the other young man’s chest. Jason has a creeping feeling that if he reaches out and wipes away the blood, he won’t find an injury anywhere on the teen’s body, which…

Well, it’s good really. Just fuckin’ _weird as hell—what the fuck…?_

“Uh…” Jason continues staring at the teen, probably looking just as confused and dumbfounded as he feels. “When Talia was experimenting with it, she just put a drop of my blood on a cut, to test it. Took the cut maybe a few hours to heal. Wouldn’t explain anything about why she thought to try that, but I’m pretty sure it must have somethin’ to do with how I came back to life. Not sure what the fuck _this _is.”

The teen blinks rapidly, then nods his head briskly, apparently deciding to set all his questions about Jason aside for the time being. “Okay. Well, since I’m suddenly feeling shockingly good for having been kidnapped and beat up and kinda lethally stabbed…” Jason winces at the reminder of the other’s former injuries, wishing he could go back in time and hurt Ra’s some more for doing this to someone. “…Do you think you can get me down now? My arms are starting to hurt.”

They look at each other, and the other teen snorts at the sheer ridiculousness of complaining about some sore muscles after the clusterfuck of _oh shit _he was dealing with up till now.

“Yeah, little buddy. That I can do.” Jason kicks around in the pathetic pile of ashes that used to be Ra’s for a minute, retrieves the keys to the manacles, and then reaches forward with gentle hands to free the shorter teen. He grips the younger man’s upper arms as he assists him carefully to the ground. “Hey, steady there,” he says as the other teen sways on his feet. “I got you.”

It feels strangely natural to drop his arm around the young man’s shoulders, and he realizes with a jolt it’s the _link,_ thankfully no longer screaming pain and fear into his mind.

“So…” Jason breathes out slowly, trying to sort through the swirl of conflicting emotions he has toward the slim teen at his side. “You’re my replacement, huh?”

Honestly, he should’ve considered the possibility the link he was feeling belonged to this guy, not Dickie. He’d just sensed a member of the Coven in pain and danger nearby. He could tell by the feel the person on the other end of the link was male, and it didn’t come across as mature enough to be Bruce or Alfred, so he’d jumped to the conclusion it was Dick.

But Talia made him all too aware there’s now another young man in the Coven, and he really should’ve thought of that before rushing in.

…Not that it would’ve made any difference, in the end. Resent the guy or not, hate him for taking his place or not, he’d never leave someone to _that _fate. Let alone someone as young and innocent as this guy so obviously is, now that Jason’s actually had a chance to meet him.

“Um.” The teen shifts on his feet awkwardly, rubbing some blood off his hand onto the loose, white, diaphanous pants that are all he’s wearing, because apparently Ra’s was a huge secret pervert despite not having had working gonads for the past thousand years. “Not really? I mean, I _didn’t _replace you. It’s not like I joined the Coven to try to fill your place or anything. Far from it, actually.”

Jason snorts, feeling vindicated and yet oddly disappointed to have caught the other in a lie. “Bullshit. There’s no fuckin’ way B would’ve taken you in while I was still alive. He only ever trains one apprentice at a time. You’re my fuckin’ replacement, just admit it.”

The teen’s eyes widen, real surprise written on his delicate face. _“Jason._ Wait. Don’t you _remember _me, Jay? He didn’t _choose_ to make me his apprentice… He took me in because I was _yours.” _And he blinks those wide blue eyes, sending a chain of memories and realizations tumbling through Jason’s mind like dominoes.

“What. No. Wait, what?” He shakes his head vigorously, then leans down to stare closely at him, examining his every feature as the young man leans back slightly, blushing and uncomfortable with the attention.

_Holy shit, it’s Timmy. My little Timmy, who watched me with his huge scary-smart eyes and followed me around like I hung the fuckin’ moon._

_God _damn, _boy went through one _hell _of a growth spurt, _Jason thinks in a mixture of shock and stunned attraction, all his old feelings of caring and friendship for the little boy he knew colliding with his reaction to the, well, sexy as _fuck _guy standing in front of him.

_Puberty was real fuckin’ kind to you Timbo, hot _damn.

_“Timmy?”_ Jason reaches automatically for his childhood friend, who reaches back with a crooked, familiar grin.

_Oh, _now _I see it. He still looks the same when he smiles. Holy fuckin’ shit, Timmy. My Timmy._

“Apparently all those little impromptu magic lessons you gave me when we met up in secret as kids were enough to give us a nascent master-apprentice link. Bruce sensed when it reverted to him after you died, so he came to find me,” Tim explains, voice a little muffled by how his face is pressed against Jason’s chest. “He was _really_ surprised by that, and so upset and grieving about losing you, but he offered me a place in the Coven anyway. He figured if I was that important to you, the Coven was where I belonged.”

Tim clutches at him a little tighter. “And we let people assume I’m B’s apprentice, but really I learn from everyone. B, and Dick some, but I’m inclined toward technomancy, so lots of my training has been with Babs.” He sighs softly, tilting his head back to meet Jason’s eyes with a soft smile. “You still have your place, Jay.”

_Ah fuck you Talia, you conniving bitch, how fuckin’ dare you? Twisting everything up so I saw it all _so _fuckin’ wrong. Holy shit._

As some of the puzzle pieces of the last few years rearrange themselves in Jason’s mind and click into a new, brighter configuration, his heart lightens so much he feels like he might just float away.

_I wasn’t replaced. I still have a_ _family. I… have a _home.

Looking down at the young man clinging to him, a warm feeling suffuses Jason and he blushes a little at how _good _Timmy feels, how right. Remembering the scene when he came into the chamber, what Ra’s did to Tim, he glares at the little pile of ash and wishes he could kill the fucker again.

_Wonder if Timmy’ll be offended if I piss on those ashes before we go? Eh, he’ll get over it._

“Hi Jay,” Tim whispers into his chest, arms around his broad shoulders as Jason buries his nose in his soft, tousled hair and holds him tight_. _“Um. Not to be rude, or seem ungrateful for all this… because I am, I really,_ really _am. And I’m _so _glad you’re back, I will never stop being grateful for that. But…” He looks up, raising an inquiring brow. “Why _are_ you alive?”

He huffs a laugh at that, and regretfully eases back from the hug. “It’s a long story with a hell of a lot of question marks, and we shouldn’t stick around here any longer than we have to. Well, besides maybe a quick stop at al Ghul’s library to see if there’s anything on whatever the fuck just happened with that spell. I’ll tell you what I know ‘bout how I came back on the way out of here.” At Tim’s eager nod, Jason takes the other teen’s elbow and guides him toward the door, only pausing to double back and quickly take care of treating Ra’s al Ghul’s remains with exactly as much respect as that asshole deserved.

_Damn that felt good._

Tim’s blinking rapidly and facing the other way, blushing profusely when Jason rejoins him in the hall. He glances up hesitantly as they begin moving. “Um. Jason? Did you just…?” The slender teen breaks off, blushing even harder.

Jason grins unabashedly. “Yup.” He’s got nothing to be ashamed of, the fucker deserved it, and more.

“Just checking.” Tim shakes his head in bemusement, then shrugs, stepping carefully over another little ash pile. “So… You, alive again. You were saying?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Jason, bursting in on occult ritual like a wrecking ball: ** *Accidentally reflects all the magic spells, destroys lich minions. Blinks in surprise, then grins* “Fuck yeah! I totally meant to do that!” *Remembers reason he came here, looks around for Dick and spots Tim* “Goddamnit! Who the hell are YOU? Fuck it, I came this far, might as well just save you I guess”  
**Tim, unconscious and bleeding with dagger sticking out of his chest: ** “…”  
**Ra’s, attempting to leer even as magic gone awry continues to destroy everything he’s ever built: ** “If I can’t have him, no one will! And by HAVE him, I mean—” *Cuts off as Jason takes Ra’s dagger out of Tim and puts own magic healing blood in instead* “…Oh. Well that’s no fun” *Sulks, grudgingly turns to ash*  
**Jason, carefully lifting Tim down: ** *Tries not to notice how cute this guy is, fails* “So how long’d B wait before replacing me with you, huh, like five minutes?”  
**Tim, blinking up in confusion: ** “Um? First, they didn’t REPLACE you, just adopted me into the Coven as your apprentice. Second, wtf how are you even alive?”  
**Jason, surreptitiously peeing on Ra’s al Ghul’s ashes: ** “Eh, not exactly sure? Who cares, let’s get the fuck outta here!” *Zips fly, collects a blushing Tim and heads out*


	3. Chapter 3

Tim makes a small, surprised noise, catching Jason’s attention from where he’s keeping watch, his heightened sense of danger pinging louder the longer they linger here. He darts a quick glance back at the younger teen, who’s sprawled on the floor surrounded by creepy old grimoires bound in what looks suspiciously like human skin. He’s studying Ra’s al Ghul’s personal library in search of anything that might explain what happened during that fucked up ritual.

“What?” Jason growls, looking back toward the door untrustingly. There’s no fucking way he’s letting down his guard in this place for even a moment. He knows better than to assume this hellhole is actually _safe_ just because the liches are gone. There’s no immediate answer, so he turns to lift a questioning brow at the younger man.

Tim bites his lip, looking pensive. “Um, Jason? It looks like instead of just stopping Ra’s from forcing me into a blood oath with him, we might have, well… accidentally made a blood oath with each other?” He winces.

Seeing Jason’s brows rise in dismay, he hurries on. “Because he had already stabbed me with the blade he intended to use as the phylactery to contain my soul, the blood oath had been initiated and _had _to be completed, one way or another. And, well… Somehow, by taking away his blade and putting your hand on me, your blood _in _me… You switched things around so now we have a blood oath. With each other.” Tim swallows.

Jason pales, harrowing possibilities rising in his mind like specters. “Wait, so the fuckin’ ritual still _worked? _But you… You’re fuckin’ alive! …Aren’t you?” He peers at Tim suspiciously. “You aren’t some kinda less nasty-looking than usual lich now, are you Timmy?"

He eyes him as though the other teen might go all corpse-like and leathery on him at any moment, then chokes, eyes bulging as another awful realization hits. “Wait, does that make me your goddamn _phylactery,_ cause I threw that fuckin’ cursed knife away? Oh fuck, this shit is so fucked up…” He shudders. “Did I fuckin’ _steal your goddamn soul _while tryin’ to save it_, _Timmy?”

_Holy shit, how the fuck can I even _start _to fix somethin’ like that…?_

Tim jumps up and grabs his arm, speaking soothingly. “Hey, hey, _no_, I’m not a lich, you saved me, it’s okay Jason… Although, from what I can detect, we’re probably… something like… well, soul-bound? Sort of. I mean, theoretically based on what I’ve read here, if either of us had magic powers before, we’ll _both _have them now. Um. If it worked the way I think it did.”

The younger teen grimaces. “Which it totally may not have, because everything I’ve read in these grimoires that might have any bearing on what happened to us is listed under ‘side effects of interrupted ritual’ with warnings like ‘avoid at all costs’ and ‘if you need to know this, then it’s already too late for you.’”

He pauses, then continues slowly. “…Which I realize sounds really bad, but when you consider these books are written from the lich point of view, actually those warnings probably mean _good_ things from our perspective.”

Jason scowls. “Wait, Tim, does this make me your goddamn _master?_ Cause I'm gonna tell you right now, I am _not_ fucking comfortable with that shit.”

Tim snorts. “No, we screwed up the ritual enough that the binding between us is equal instead of subsuming my autonomy into slavish devotion to your will.” They both pause briefly to wince and shudder at that thought, knowing just how close they came to Ra’s stealing Tim’s _everything._

“Instead, we’ve most likely got shared powers, shared strength, possibly some shared emotions later on if we choose to encourage it.” Tim shrugs, slamming the grimoire he still has in his hand closed and then rubbing his eyes. “Think that’s all I’m gonna get out of these texts.”

“Right.” Jason nods, then reaches out to tug a startled Tim into his side and tuck him close. “Good enough, now let’s get the fuck outta this fucked up place before somethin’ even _worse _happens to us.”

Even as he says it, he winces, wondering what manner of goddamn catastrophe he just called down on them with his careless words.

_Whoops._

* * *

The rain of darts bursting out of hidden traps in the walls manages to take them both by surprise as they rush through a particularly dark, foreboding corridor. Although, after the collapsing floors, sharp spikes erupting out of the walls, and that one door that opened into a flooded chamber filled with water-snakes, they probably should have expected something like this.

_Stupid Ra’s and his stupid, evil lair filled with boobytraps trying to kill us even _after _we defeated him…_

“God fuckin’ _damn _it!” Jason rages, brushing darts off of himself and Tim with protective concern written all over his unfairly handsome face, and isn’t _that _insane?

Not only is Tim’s dead best friend and secret childhood crush somehow _alive, _swooping in to rescue him from his terrible doom right in the nick of time in classic fairytale hero style—not to mention magically tied to him at the very soul which kinda sorta makes them soulmates in a way—he’s also _hot as hell._

_Ugh, not the time for this. Think about Jason’s miraculous alive-ness and glorious thick thighs _later,_ once he’s not at risk of _dying again, _oh god…_

Sometimes being seventeen sucks. Like when rampant teenage hormones decide to kick in during an escape from deadly peril. He shakes it off and forces himself to focus.

Tim examines one of the little projectiles carefully, hoping his suspicions are wrong, then feels himself tense as the subtle sheen on the tip confirms his suspicions. Well, that’s not good. “Jay, these darts are_ poisoned.”_

Jason blanches. “Shit, Timmy, you feeling sick?” The older teen quickly scans him for signs of illness, worried blue eyes darting up and down his body. He doesn’t seem to understand _he’s _the one in danger here.

_Silly Jason._

The other man then exclaims in horror as Tim brings the dart to his mouth and licks the point to verify which poison it is. He looks like he could use some reassurance right now, but there’s no time for that.

_Damn it, Jay, just stand back and let me work! _I’m _not the one in peril here!_

He shakes his head impatiently when Jason pries the dart out of his hand and throws it aside, glaring at it accusingly before turning back to him, looking worried. Tim reaches out to gently touch his forehead and then closely examines his eyes, ignoring Jason’s concerned sputtering. “I don't understand,” he breathes, confused but relieved. “That poison should have killed you almost instantly_,_ but you seem totally fine!”

Jason’s brows shoot up. “Wait a goddamn minute, Timmy, _you_ got hit with that poison too! Not to mention fuckin’ _licking more of it off the dart, what the fuck? _And of the two of us, you’re not the one who came back from the fuckin’ _dead _with freaky unexplained healing powers, so _you’re_ the one I’m gonna worry about.”

_Oh yeah, guess he still doesn’t know. Whoops?_

Tim rolls his eyes, scoffing. “Jay, my mother is one of Rappaccini’s daughters. I’m immune to all poisons, courtesy my stint in her toxic uterus and the occasional time she was around during my childhood. Dad’s immune too, through the magic of their marriage binding.”

He winces slightly, remembering the loneliness of those years, broken only by following and watching the members of the Wayne Coven on both their legitimate public exploits and the more clandestine, but always heroic, activities in which they engaged in secret. It was amazing to watch them serve justice and right wrongs amidst the magical community when regular channels failed.

Jason gapes, then frowns, tilting his head in consideration. “Wait, does that have anything to do with why your folks were always gone when we were kids?” His gaze softens, an understanding, compassionate expression on his face.

_Of course, he would immediately get it. Jason’s always been so smart and caring. God, seeing him again still feels unreal._

Tim sighs and nods, giving him a wry little smile and a half shrug. “There’s still a stigma associated with being a Rappaccini’s daughter. It’s why I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about it, even _you_. People get so unnecessarily upset when they find out they’re being slowly poisoned every moment they spend in someone’s presence.”

He scoffs, then runs a hand through his hair, smiling sadly. “Mother wanted to minimize the time she spent around me in hopes I wouldn’t develop my own toxicity through constantly being infused with her natural poisons.” He shrugs. “It worked. I’m just immune to poisons, not actually toxic myself, but I still wish I could see Mom and Dad more. Skype is only good for so much.”

Although the Skype calls, emails, and constant stream of terrible archaeological memes and puns Dad’s always sending him are definitely pretty awesome. He just misses his parents sometimes, that’s all.

“Huh. That… sucks balls, Timbo.” Jason looks sorrowful for his sake, which is dumb because he’s the real reason Tim’s childhood wasn’t the isolated, lonesome place it might have been. It was the older boy’s decision to befriend the little stalker he caught chasing after his Coven instead of turning him in that gave him the very best memories of his young life. And now… Wow, Jason’s _nineteen _now. He actually, _somehow, _got a chance to grow up.

_I can’t believe he’s really back._

Tim tilts his head, carefully observing the taller teen who is still showing no signs of being affected by the deadly poison that’s been injected into his body. _Thank the gods. _“On the bright side, the fact you aren’t writhing in pain on the floor right now probably means the blood oath took the way I’m thinking it did. You’re poison-resistant now too.” He brightens. “Hey, that means you can meet my parents someday!”

Jason’s eyes widen and he begins to blush for some reason. Tim ignores him, thinking about the mystery of their blood oath.

_If my powers of poison resistance transferred to Jason during the ritual, I wonder if _his _powers… Hmm. Easy way to find out._

And he drags one of the sharp darts along the inside of his wrist, watching dispassionately as a fine line of blood forms behind it.

Jason’s hand shoots out and grabs the dart, tossing it away as he cradles Tim’s arm and inspects the injury. “Damn it, Timmy, what are you—” He cuts off abruptly and watches in shock as the skin closes up like the wound had never been.

“Just as I suspected,” Tim says with satisfaction. “I now share your mysterious healing powers!” He feels himself getting what is probably a slightly manic look in his eyes as he thinks about testing the limits of his new healing factor. Jason slowly raises his brows while staring at him, and surreptitiously begins to edge nearby potential weapons out of his reach.

Tim snorts, amused at his reaction.

“No more fuckin’ experiments till we’re somewhere safe,” the older teen growls, still watching him with mistrust. Yeah, he’s probably not going to be very supportive of any further efforts to investigate their new and intriguing shared powers.

Tim rolls his eyes, capitulating with a pout. _“Fine.” _He’s definitely planning more exciting experiments to determine the exact nature and limitations of the magic conferred upon them both by the screwed-up blood oath they brought down on themselves. It’s _fascinating, _something entirely new to explore and learn about.

_Although maybe it _is_ better to wait until we’re back at the Cave anyway, so the others can help. It’ll be useful to have Babs recording and analyzing the results with her technomancy. And to have Dick on hand in case healing is necessary. And Alfred will be there to bring us tea and cookies and coffee and _oh god _I could go for some coffee right now—_

“I can see you thinkin’, Timmy.” Jason’s watching him with a faint, deeply fond smile that brings a warm tightness to his belly and makes him blush for reasons he doesn’t want to think about right now. “Life ain’t gonna be boring with you around, that’s for damn sure.” And he bumps their shoulders together, catching his hand and holding it. “C’mon, darlin’, we’re almost out. Think we’re anywhere near Gotham? I want a fuckin’ chilidog.”

Tim snorts, grinning at the reminder of his oldest friend’s favorite food. “No idea. But I’d be down for that, as long as we stop at a coffee shop too.”

Jason squeezes his hand, returning his grin slowly. “I think that can be arranged.”

And they begin making their way again through the seemingly infinite maze of twisting corridors and halls, stepping carefully past the pathetic little piles of ash that mark all that’s left of Ra’s al Ghul’s former lich army while they search for the exit.

Tim rolls his eyes when Jason insists on searching each ash pile and pocketing the cash and weapons he finds.

_Well, now I guess we’ll have money for coffee and chilidogs. Best first date ever! Wait, _is _this a date? _Tim bites his lip and glances over at Jason, who catches his eye and winks. He grins, feeling his cheeks heat. _Yep, definitely a date._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Jason, eyeing Tim as he reads a bunch of grimoires in Ra’s al Ghul’s creepy library: ** “Those things are bound in human skin aren’t they” *Nudges one with his toe, jerks back in horror when it snaps at his foot*  
**Tim, so absorbed in his reading he doesn’t even notice: ** “Jay! I think when the ritual went sideways you and me ended up SOUL-BOUND!” *Looks up, glowing* “Isn’t that interesting? I want to SCIENCE!”  
**Jason, horrified: ** “Now’s not the time!” *Drags Tim into hallway, where both are hit by barrage of poison darts* “Goddamnit!” *Turns to see Tim licking dart* “WTF”  
**Tim, grinning: ** “Good news! You’re resistant to poison now, just like me! I wonder if I can heal now like you?” *Attempts to stab self, looks disappointed when Jason is appalled and stops him*  
**Jason, sighing and hiding any and all weapons in their vicinity: ** “Let’s just get some goddamn chilidogs, yeah?”


	4. Chapter 4

“What _now?” _Jason groans, glaring at the latest obstacle in their escape. His glare fades a bit when he has to look down to see their challenger. It disappears entirely when he realizes the person who jumped out in front of them dual-wielding a pair of sharp, flashing katana with a loud battle cry is _a small child._

_What the actual fuck?_

Tim immediately throws up his empty hands in a soothing gesture, obviously just as squeamish as he is about fighting a child, even in self-defense. “Hey there, we really don’t want to hurt you, so can you please calm down so we can talk?”

Jason sighs, lowering the arsenal of weapons he’s raided off the numerous piles of pathetic lich remains they’ve passed during their increasingly confused wanderings through this labyrinth-like hellhole. “That’s right, kid. Ain’t gonna fuckin’ hurt you, so calm it the fuck down.”

Tim facepalms at his words for some reason.

The tiny little imp stares at them, fear poorly hidden beneath his scowl, cute little fangs bared in threat. “Get back!” he cries warningly, small hands clenching tighter on the hilts of his weapons. “Mother will return soon, and she will not have mercy on any who harm me—” He breaks off as he gets a better look at them, and frowns in apparent surprise and confusion. “Wait… _Brother?_ And… the imposter?” His eyes flick dismissively to Tim before returning to fasten on Jason’s face.

Jason blinks. _Huh?_ Beside him, Tim sucks in a breath and then elbows him in the gut.

_Fuckin’ _ow, _Timmy, what the fuck? _He directs a betrayed glare at the younger man, who rolls his eyes like Jason’s being a dumbass.

_“Jay! _Look at his face!” Tim jerks his head toward the brat expectantly.

Jason glowers and complies, looking past the tiny little horns curled against the child’s dark head of hair to study his scowling, angry-looking face, now forming a glare which looks suspiciously familiar.

_Holy shit, that’s Bruce’s kid isn’t it?_

Huh.

_Damn B, _Talia?_ Really?_

Jason clears his throat, setting _that _realization aside to deal with later. _Or maybe never, gross_. “Wow. Okay, so you seem to know who we are. What’s your name, kid?”

“Damian.” The boy narrows his eyes. Apparently no longer considering them a threat, he flicks his wrists and both katana disappear, presumably into some kind of demonic pocket dimension. Talia does the same damn thing. Which reminds him…

“Hey, Damian. Your uh, mom around?” Jason asks carefully, not knowing how to ask a small child if he just witnessed his parent turn to ash in front of him.

_Fuck, please don’t make me feel bad about killing all those fuckin’ liches…_

“Mother had to return to Hell when the backlash from Grandfather’s spell began to target those carrying his magic. She will need to gather strength there for some time before returning to this world.” The little boy is still scowling, but there’s a slightly forlorn air about him now. Which makes sense, considering he’s apparently all alone here in this eerie place.

_Fuck._

Tim bites his lip, then speaks slowly, clearly choosing his words carefully to avoid upsetting the brat. “Um, about how long will that take her? We don’t want to leave you here alone, but if she’ll be a while, we might need to take you with us. This place isn’t going to be safe for long.” He glances over to the corner, looking concerned.

Jason follows his gaze and catches sight of a shadow he could swear just fucking moved. They both eye it suspiciously for a moment before he deems it safe enough for the time being and returns his attention to the kid.

_Jesus. No kidding, this place is giving me the creeps the longer we stay here. _

“No more than a few years,” the boy answers Tim’s question, crossing his arms defensively. He glares at them, biting his lip, eyes suspiciously bright and tiny fists clenched. “She would be back sooner if it was possible! But there was too much of Grandfather’s magic in her to stay, on account of the method of her creation.”

_Fuckin’ gross. Why do I feel like everything this kid’s about to say is things I don’t wanna know…?_

The brat pouts. “Even with a summoned demon for a partner, the act of siring a child is extremely magically intensive for a lich and involves a tremendous amount of power, much of which remained sealed within Mother to this day. She had to divest herself rapidly of all Grandfather’s residual magic so the backfiring spell would not take her as well. As such, she no longer had the strength to maintain her presence beyond the Gate.”

Jason and Tim both wince at the thought of the fucked up dark magic Ra’s indulged in to make Talia. A lich isn’t supposed to be able to breed; after all, they’re _dead. _Talia’s creation was almost certainly steeped in dark magic, blood sacrifice, and other arcane sorcery. According to Bruce’s notes, it resulted in the complete destruction of a small city, as well as the unfortunate demoness unlucky enough to have caught Ra’s al Ghul’s attention and be deemed worthy of breeding his child.

_I’m never gonna regret my part in that asshole’s death. Just wish I coulda made it hurt even _more.

“But weren’t you at risk as well? You must have some connection to his power too, through your blood if nothing else.” Tim is frowning and Jason nods, brows lowering in concern. Damn, they could’ve accidentally injured this kid, or worse_._

The boy shakes his head, dark little horns reflecting flashes of light as he moves, the corners of his sullen little mouth tilting down. “Mother made sure none of the lich power touched me in the womb. It was within her ability, and she wished for me to be shielded somewhat from Grandfather’s reach.” He looks away, clearly uncomfortable. Which makes sense, considering what just happened here.

Well, that sounds exactly like Talia. Always with a plan, playing whatever side suits her best and leaving herself escape routes even from her supposed allies. Jason leans forward. “So kid, you seem to be in the know on some shit. Got any idea what the hell your mom was up to with keepin’ me around?”

The boy’s eyes flick from Jason to Tim and then narrow. “Mother wished to set you against the imposter prior to sending me to Gotham to live with Father in order to clear the way so I could become Father’s apprentice.”

Tim gapes, and Jason snorts, rubbing a hand across his face. _Fuckin’ perfect._

Well, that’s pretty fucking shitty but it makes sense in a crazy way. He glowers, realizing this probably means that all the discussions with Talia and her careful, controlled sharing of information with him were apparently to put a target on Tim’s back, and aim him right at it. “So, she wanted me and Timmy to fight to the death, get both of us outta the way for you—”

The kid’s looking at him like he’s gone insane. _“What?_ No, you fool. Of course not! Mother is fond of you and would never send you to your death without good cause. You were simply to slay the imposter.”

Now Tim looks slightly offended. “She was that sure I would lose?”

Damian rolls his eyes. “Of course you would, Drake! Todd is part _phoenix _and you a mere baseline human with some modicum of magical talent. Even if you managed to best him, he would simply return to life and come after you again.” He seems to notice their shocked stares and trails off. “What? Why are you fools gaping at me so?” He rears back, eyeing them defensively.

“Go back to the part where you explain how I’m a _fuckin’ phoenix. _What the_ fuck?”_ Jason answers hoarsely.

Damian scoffs. “How could I explain _that?_ I know not which of your peon ancestors managed to seduce a wayward phoenix, thus introducing those powers to your bloodline, diluted though they were. The phoenix powers were entirely masked by your human blood until Grandfather obtained your corpse to raise it as a foot soldier in his army, thinking to use it to haunt and terrorize your Coven.”

Tim’s shaking beside him, and it takes him a moment to realize the shorter teen is laughing_. “Oh my_ _god,_ you’re a phoenix, Jason. Ra’s tried to raise a _phoenix_ with the power of _death._ Oh my _god. _No wonder everything in the ritual went to hell.”

Jason’s a little annoyed because he’s not really seeing what’s so damn funny. “What’re you laughing about, Timbo? Share with the fuckin’ class.”

Tim grins at him, an expression of merriment on his face. “Phoenix magic isn’t just based on life, it _is_ life. Anyone trying to use death magic on one is… Well. It’s not likely to turn out well for the caster, let’s just leave it at that.”

“The lesser general whom Grandfather assigned to perform the original ritual to raise Todd caught fire and was turned to ash when Todd’s hitherto unknown magic activated during the ceremony. The entire room was engulfed in the flames of his rebirth. Todd caught fire as well, but when the flames dwindled, he lay there restored to life and health, merely unconscious. Grandfather washed his hands of him once it was demonstrated he could not control him by means of his magic, and Mother decided to make use of him in her way.”

_Holy shit._

_I’m a motherfucking phoenix, god_ damn.

Tim nods slowly, bright eyes wide with curiosity and interest. “So… That’s definitely why the ceremony went so wrong earlier. Jason’s life magic plus lich death magic equals _massive _destruction, aimed at the dark magic connected with the spell.” His voice is awed.

_We seriously lucked the fuck out._

“And since _Ra’s _was actually within the fuckin’ circle himself this time…” Jason’s voice trails off as he follows up on the younger man’s statement.

“It got him too.” Tim confirms with a smirk.

Jason huffs a laugh, dragging a hand through his already-tousled hair. “Along with every poor, evil bastard connected to his magic.”

“…Huh. Jay, I think we accidentally destroyed the entire League of Shadows.” Tim blinks, looking a little overwhelmed, so Jason throws a reassuring arm around the younger man’s slim shoulders.

_Huh, he really is the perfect height. Damn. _Jason nuzzles his soft hair for a moment as the other teen relaxes into his side. “Eh, just the lich part. The undead generals and mindless zombie hordes. There’s still a shitload of assassins and stuff who probably were tied to Ra’s by money and loyalty, not magic.”

Tim nods, then tilts his head to look up. “Well, I don’t regret it. And B can’t very well blame us for an accident that was outside our control.”

He still looks a little nervous though, so Jason rubs his back gently. He’s not about to let Bruce make Tim feel guilty over fucking _surviving _a brutal assault. Like hell he’s ever going to let that happen. “It ain’t like either of us had any choice, Timmy. He’ll understand. If not, I’ll _make_ him.”

A thought occurs to him and he groans. “Wait, so Talia was grooming me to kill Timmy to get him outta the way for her brat, and then Ra’s went and captured Tim to make him a higher level lich… Which woulda given that wizened old shit the power to make Timmy tell him everything he knows about the Coven, and probably wipe them out.”

He swallows, some motivations falling into place in his mind with the information the little imp’s given them. “I think Talia left my door unlocked on purpose today.”

Tim’s eyes widen, and Damian blinks, little brows drawing together in a very Bruce-like frown. “I do not know,” the kid says in a small voice. “Mother loves Father in her own way and would do much to protect him. And… I know she feared what Grandfather eventually planned to do to _me.”_ He looks like he might say more but bites back his words. The boy swallows and blinks rapidly, little mouth tightening, and Jason realizes to his dismay the kid’s fighting tears.

“Hey, that’s enough of that,” he says, roughly comforting. “Let’s get you home to your dad, yeah kiddo?”

The little boy scrubs at his eyes, embarrassed. “But you have not yet slain the imposter! You must do so, that I may claim my rightful place in the Coven!”

_Yeah, you’re cute and all, Squirt, but that’s _never _gonna happen. The killing Timmy part, anyway._

Tim makes an adorably bitchy face at that. “I am sick and tired of all you guys assuming I’m in _your _place in the Coven! I’m _me!_ You’re both _yourselves!_ We each get our own damn spot, why is this so difficult to understand?!”

Jason twitches guiltily, and Damian’s brow furrows. “Are you certain Father will accept me despite the blight of your continued existence?”

_Damn, kid, we gotta work on your tact. Then again, maybe I’m not the best guy to try to teach you about that._

Tim face palms, so Jason answers for him. “Yeah, kid. Actually, your dad has a strict no killing policy, so best get used to that.”

Damian tilts his head in cute bewilderment, tiny fangs biting his bottom lip. “It is very strange, but I suppose I shall become accustomed to it.” He nods decisively. “Mother likely did not realize how vastly Father’s system differs from Grandfather’s. Thank you for imparting this knowledge to me, Brother.”

He turns to regard Tim with a ridiculously serious expression on his vivid little face. “I am pleased we did not take your life in error, Lesser Brother.”

As Tim sputters, the tiny half demon spins on his heel and begins striding away. “Come, brothers! We should make haste to leave this place before the hell-beasts arrive. Now that Grandfather no longer holds their leash, they will likely be quite restive.”

The shadows in the corners twitch ominously as the brat speaks, causing Jason’s eyes to widen in dread. _Nope. _He grabs Timmy by the hand to pull him along and then tosses the kid over his shoulder with the other hand, despite the brat’s viciously protesting little growls and attempts to claw his way free. He ignores it all so he can run, following the directions the tiny, fierce baby demon snarls into his ear.

Even as he’s putting all his considerable strength and speed into getting them the fuck _outta_ this goddamn deathtrap, he can’t help but notice the adorable little goddamn _tail _the baby demon is sporting. It switches back and forth in dismay and bats ineffectually at his face before wrapping tightly around his shoulder like a monkey clinging to the branch of a tree.

It’s unreasonably charming and cute.

_Aww._

_Jesus _fuck,_ this little shit’s gonna be a fun addition to the family. Can’t wait to see B’s face when he meets him. I hope the kid fuckin’ bites him, isn’t that how baby demons show affection? God, this is gonna be fuckin’ _hilarious_._

“We’re still on for coffee and chilidogs after this, right Timbo?” Jason could really go for a chilidog right now.

At his side, he hears Tim huff a soft little laugh and follows his gaze out through the door in front of them and into what Jason’s stunned and relieved to recognize as the outskirts of Old Gotham. The door from which they just emerged looks like it opens into an abandoned shop nowhere near large enough to house the lair they just escaped from. Dimensional magic at work, probably.

As he looks around with growing relief, he can see two coffee shops, an in-progress drug deal, three pixies teaming up to mug a pimp, and—_oh fuck yeah—_a chilidog stand. He stumbles to a halt as they emerge into the sullen glow of the streetlights, the familiar scent of wet asphalt, garbage, brine, and pollution welcoming him home.

Jason presses a shaky kiss to Tim’s hair and the younger teen twists in his grip to throw his arms around him and kiss him back, full on the lips, sparking a thrill of heat and passion in his body. It ignites something deep and joyful and so, so wonderful in his heart.

_Oh fuck. Yes, GOD yes… TIM._

He really doesn’t want to stop, but he’s dimly aware of Damian kicking to be put down and then escaping from his hold, so with a reluctant final press of lips he releases Tim. Still, Jason can be excused if he maybe gets distracted just staring at how gorgeous the other teen looks with his tousled black hair, bright dancing eyes, and soft lips still parted as he gazes back at him.

“Must you paw at each other so? At least refrain until I am no longer forced to bear witness to your lewd display. What is this _chilidog?_ It sounds disgusting.” Damian’s scornful tone reminds them of his presence, and Tim pulls back to meet Jason’s eyes, a mischievous smile lighting up his pretty, delicate face.

Jason grins, turning to his new little brother and tousling his hair, ignoring the brat’s sputtering growls and attempts to fend him off with his tiny but fuckin’ _sharp _little claws. “Oh, kid. You’re in for a fuckin’ _treat.”_

As the trio follow the delicious scents to their source, Jason pauses as his supposedly broken links click back into place in his mind. He senses shock and hesitant but growing joy as the Coven members notice them and begin rapidly converging on their position.

_Huh. Guess the muted links thing really was just somethin’ to do with bein’ in Ra’s al Ghul’s fuckin’ lair, not me being broken after all._

“They’re coming,” Tim whispers, glowing with happiness and relief as he senses their family too.

Jason’s smile softens. “Looks like we’re gonna have company real soon here. Guess we better buy a fuckin’ shitload of coffee and chilidogs.” He drapes an arm over Timmy’s shoulders and corrals Damian with his other hand, careful to avoid the little imp’s snapping teeth. “Good thing I got cash!”

And he grins, enjoying the thought of buying dinner for his entire Coven at Ra’s al Ghul’s expense as one final, pointed _fuck you _to the leathery old bastard.

The younger teen snorts, but smiles back as they begin to walk down the grimy Gotham street toward the bright lights of the nearest coffee shop. They don’t attract any stares, despite Tim’s half-naked, slightly bloodstained state, Damian’s feral snarling at passerby who wander too near, and Jason’s bristling weaponry. This _is _Gotham, after all.

_It’s so fuckin’ good to be home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Jason, done with everything and just wanting to be out of this hellish maze: ** “NOW what?” *Catches sight of tiny, adorable demonic imp-child* “Uh. Hey, kid”  
**Tim, eyes widening: ** “Omg that kid has a BRUCE-face!” *Elbows a gaping Jason*  
**Damian, puffing up pridefully: ** “Indeed, brother, it is I! Your far superior sibling! Now quickly, Todd, slay the imposter that we might away to Father!”  
**Jason, not even sure where to start with that: ** “…No.” *Picks up cute but aggressive demon brat, grabs Tim and runs to escape evil lair* “That ain’t how things work in our Coven, kid”  
**Damian, brightening: ** “Oh? Excellent, spilling blood here would have just attracted Grandfather’s hellhounds all the sooner”  
**Jason and Tim, exchanging a worried glance: ** *Increase speed, burst out into Gotham alleyway* “Ah, home sweet home” *Immediately follow ambrosial scent of chilidogs and coffee, to Damian’s confusion. Shove chilidog in Damian’s face to district him while they kiss each other*  
**Damian, appalled and suspicious: ** “Brothers, if you were lying and this is your attempt to poison me I shall—” *Accidentally takes bite, blinks. Grudgingly takes another bite*


	5. Chapter 5

Tim senses multiple people descending in the nearest alleyway and spins in place, arms filled with chilidogs he’s not above utilizing as projectile weapons if he has to. A chilidog to the eye would give even the most inimical of creatures pause, if only from sheer shock.

He has a feeling he knows who’s approaching though, especially considering the ties to the rest of the Coven are practically _singing _in his mind. Even so, there’s always the possibility this is someone else with less benevolent intentions. After the night they’ve had so far, he’s not about to drop his guard now.

But all his tension melts away the moment he lays eyes on the new arrivals.

_God, it’s good to see them. I thought I’d never get a chance to talk to them again, not even to say goodbye. That next time I faced the Coven, I wouldn’t be _me _anymore, just a soulless puppet for Ra’s. But here we are, and I’m bringing Jason and Damian home too._

His face stretches into a wide grin and he almost can’t decide where to look first. There’s Dick, hurrying toward them with worry and relief in his expression. He shivers with the momentary but very familiar chill as Cass materializes out of nowhere at his side, dark gaze darting to his companions before returning to him.

Steph lands beside them with a loud whoop, obviously ready to celebrate his safe return. And Bruce…

Is just standing a couple of feet away, frozen, at the mouth of the alleyway in which he descended, having obviously utilized one of his spells for flying short distances to arrive quickly. He seems to be the only one who has bothered to cast more than a cursory glance over Tim’s companions. His posture is tense as he stares, stunned.

“Jason,” the man breathes, voice wrecked and expression a pained mixture of disbelief and agonizing hope.

Tim wordlessly hands him a chilidog. Bruce takes it, apparently on autopilot, then blinks and narrows his eyes before casting a disillusionment spell on his resurrected son. When Jason fails to disappear, the mage frowns, visibly trying to figure out what type of magic might be at work here.

Well, that’s a tangent they definitely don’t need him wasting time on.

_B could be at this all night if we let him. And then all the coffee we just bought would get cold, Jason would get frustrated and say something offensive, and Damian would probably end up biting someone. I don’t even _want_ to know what happens when Jason bites into a cold chilidog, either. I’m way too tired and emotionally drained to deal with _any _of that right now. I just want to go _home. _Maybe I can bypass Bruce’s paranoia and speed things along a little here._

“He’s a phoenix,” Tim contributes helpfully. “Ra’s tried to lich him, and it, um. Didn’t take.” Definitely an understatement, considering the catastrophic domino effect which had resulted in the unintentional annihilation of al Ghul’s deathless evil empire, but yeah. There’s a lot to unpack here, and he figures it’s a good idea to ease the family into all the explanations.

Everyone turns to stare at Jason, who shrugs, raising his brows. “Yo.” He gives a little wave.

Dick waves back, staring at him like he’s afraid to believe this miracle.

Tim allows himself a fond smile. Yes, simplifying explanations is definitely the way to go for now. Also, if he gets everyone to focus on their newly resurrected Coven member, there’s a decent chance he won’t even have to talk about what happened to _him_ until tomorrow when he’s better rested and—

Jason scowls and crosses his arms over his chest as best he can while holding so many coffee cups. “Yeah, so that happened. But way more importantly, tonight the old _fucker_ tried to lich Timmy here.”

_Damn it, Jay… Did you really have to bring that up?_

Well, maybe they’ll be talking about everything tonight after all. Tim sighs, then shifts slightly so he can bite into one of the several chilidogs he’s still holding. Might as well eat and build up his strength, if they’re about to do the emotionally draining discussions tonight.

Cass is holding a chilidog too, apparently having stealthily snagged it without him noticing. Oh hey, and Steph’s got one as well, already half-eaten. She must be getting better at moving silently, or maybe Cass gave it to her. But neither of them is eating right now. Instead, their gazes are tracking over him as though in search of wounds, pausing for a long moment on each bloodstain as they visibly attempt to reconstruct his numerous now-healed injuries.

He rolls his eyes at the ominous pressure of power gathering in the air. Great.

_C’mon guys, at least it’s over now and the worst didn’t happen. Do we really have to do this?_

Dick’s hands tighten into fists as he looks back and forth between Tim and Jason, clearly bursting with questions but visibly forcing himself to focus first on the immediate threat. “He _what?” _The older man moves very quickly when he wants to. Suddenly he’s right there, running his hands over their bodies and checking their energy levels and physical state. Closing his eyes, he breathes out, tension draining at whatever he found. “They’re alright,” he says, looking up and making eye contact with Bruce. “Both of them. And I’m _damn _sure that this is really Jason. Not that the links could be faked anyway, you big worrywart.”

Bruce is still frowning. “Setting that aside for now,” he raises an eyebrow to emphasize his intention to get the full story out of them later, “What is Ra’s al Ghul’s current status? Are you in the process of evading pursuit? Do you need immediate evacuation to a safe place?” His eyes flick to the chilidogs and coffee clutched in their arms and he blinks, perhaps registering how unlikely it is that they would pause in a life-or-death flight to get coffee.

His measuring gaze then settles on Tim, who realizes yes, Bruce _definitely _thinks he, at least, would stop to get coffee even in the direst of straits.

_Well, he’s not wrong._

Tim rolls his eyes. “Nope! Ra’s, um, won’t be joining us any time soon.” He bites his lip, trying not to think about the tiny puddle of damp ash which constituted his last view of the wicked old lich. Now is not the time to start snickering at his resurrected childhood friend’s final _screw you _to their defeated enemy. “There was a misfire when Jason stepped into the lich’s spell circle while they were trying to perform the ceremony to transform me into one of them. His phoenix magic rebuffed the death magic and reflected it back on its caster, which, well…”

He really doesn’t want to have to say how their misadventure ended. Not to _Bruce_, who has always made such a point of valuing every life, no matter how misspent_._

“The fuckers blew themselves the fuck up,” Jason mercifully finishes for him, making a demonstrative exploding gesture with his hands. “And it ain’t any big loss, at least not in my book,” he says truculently. As Bruce’s eyes widen minutely and the man inhales, probably in preparation for a lecture on the value of all life, Jason snorts. “He’d been dead for like a thousand years anyway, B, and this whole shitstorm was his own fault because he wouldn’t keep his nasty, shrinkled old claws to himself. Anyway, I’m sure as shit glad that _lech_ is gone, after the things I heard him sayin’ to Timmy.” He lifts a brow and glares meaningfully.

Tim blinks, momentarily blindsided at the reminder.

_Way to throw me under the bus to avoid having to deal with B in lecture mode, Jay. Then again, I guess it’s kinda understandable he wouldn’t want to cope with that right now. He must be as tired as I am and seeing everyone again has to be even more overwhelming for him._

Well, this is going to be uncomfortable. Tim winces when he sees the others pause as the import of Jason’s words hits them. They slowly turn to take in his present attire. Or really, lack thereof; there’s not much left of the diaphanous pants Ra’s had seen fit to dress him in for the ceremony. His exposed chest feels particularly naked and uncomfortable under their combined stares.

He can tell the instant everyone makes the connection between Jason calling Ra’s a _lech _and the way he’s currently dressed, which definitely _isn’t_ a prerequisite for any kind of magical ceremony.

The tiny weeds poking out of the cracked sidewalk twitch, their leaves vibrating slightly as they begin to unfurl and grow with the power of Dick’s rising fury. Bruce mutters a soft curse under his breath, which would cause Tim to fear for the state of Ra’s al Ghul’s battered soul—that is, if he actually thought there was anything left of it to worry about. Steph’s eyes slowly turn red as she fights back her transformation, and the shadows in the alleyway begin curling toward them as Cass’s usually suppressed, long-forsaken reaper heritage begins to manifest.

_Damn, she must be _really _upset if she’s losing her grip like that. Oops?_

Tim huffs a little breath at their overprotectiveness, crossing his arms over his chest and definitely not pouting. Seriously, it wasn’t that bad. Anyway, Ra’s was a _lich. _Super-disturbing crush or not, it’s not like the guy could actually do anything about it besides talk.

_Ugh, I was hoping to avoid letting them know about that particularly creepy little tidbit. Wish there was something I could do to distract them now. Oh hey, wait a minute…_

Scanning the alley for a moment, he quickly spots what he’s looking for. “By the way, this is Damian.” He points to the tiny demon-child currently hiding amidst the shadows, in the time-honored way of his kind, and then smirks mischievously. This is going to be fun.

Jason catches on quickly and grabs hold of the little boy’s shoulder, gently tugging him forward with a wide grin. It’s awesome to have his old friend back for so many reasons, but right now the best part is how in tune he is with the way Tim thinks. There’s no way B’s going to continue the debrief immediately after this particular little reveal. “Yo Bruce, fuckin’ congrats. It’s a boy!”

Tim winces. Although, maybe they could work a little bit on his tact. Then again, this _is _Jason. He’s probably always going to be like that. Watching his old friend chortle with glee at discomfiting his father, a soft sense of happiness and joy rises within him.

_I missed him _so_ much. Thanks for coming back, Jay._

* * *

Seeing the poor bastard reel with the latest in a series of seriously unexpected revelations, Jason almost feels a little guilty.

Almost.

This whole situation is a little fucked, and he’s going to need a while to deal with the intense mix of emotions flowing through him at seeing everyone again, but he’s not about to waste the potential hilarity that’s about to unfold by wimping out now.

Bruce stares at him for a long moment, brain clearly refusing the process what he just said, and then blinks several times in rapid succession. He turns his head to take in the child, gaze tracing over Damian’s every feature.

The small boy stares up at him with trepidation and hope in his wide green eyes. “Father?” the kid asks, and the man’s hand twitches toward him.

“Talia,” Bruce breathes, as though in realization, his face twisting through a series of emotions too rapid to decipher. He glances at Tim and Jason again for confirmation, then returns to focus solely on the child before him. His expression resolves into one of tentative hope and welcome. “Damian,” he says more firmly. “It is good to meet you.”

And his hand resumes its interrupted journey toward the demon brat’s hair. A grin starts to form on Jason’s face, entirely against his will. _Don’t give it away and ruin this, damn it! _He struggles to control his expression so he doesn’t derail what’s almost certainly going to go down.

At his side, he feels Tim’s muscles tense as though he’s about to intervene. Nope, he’s not letting that happen. He quickly reaches out and captures his hand with his own. Shaking his head infinitesimally without looking away from the unfolding train-wreck of a first meeting, he convinces Tim to let this play out.

_Just give me this, Timmy. I’ve had a real bad year, I deserve it._

Biting his lip, Tim glances up at him with worried blue eyes and then frowns, clearly suspicious.

In front of them, as though in slow motion, Bruce’s hand finally makes it near Damian’s face and within biting range. And then the inevitable happens, a quick bite resulting in the man’s startled yelp. He yanks back his hand and the child tilts his head uncertainly.

“Father? Is this not how humans show affection?”

_Holy shit, this is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen._

Jason knows he’s an asshole, but he’s finding the not-so-heartwarming first meeting hilarious. Tim elbows him in the gut to try to get him to stop snickering under his breath at the memory of the totally startled look on B’s face.

Bruce lifts a remonstrative brow at them and then shakes his abused hand, eyeing the boy askance. “We generally prefer other, less physically painful demonstrations.”

Damian’s brow furrows as he attempts to understand. “Such as?”

Dick, the grinning idiot, dives toward the kid, arms extended trying to capture him in one of his all-encompassing hugs. Jason can’t hold back the loud guffaw of laughter when the little demon responds to what he clearly perceives as an attack with another warning nip. “Ow!” Dick cradles his injured wrist, instinctively gathering nature energy from their surroundings to heal himself.

Fucking dryads. He’s surprised to find himself blinking back tears at the memories evoked by the sight of his… his _brother, _using his magic just like he did so many times over the years to heal Jason’s own hurts when he was a boy. Everything Talia told him about being replaced, not having a family anymore, surges back into his mind and battles against the truths he’s learned tonight. He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the doubts implanted by her lies even as his links to the Coven swell with worry and affection from those around him.

His family, who love him and want him.

“Hey, you okay?” Tim’s soft whisper draws his attention back to the teen at his side, where worried blue eyes gaze up at him in concern. “Do you need another chilidog?”

_God, I think I love you._

He’s already had four. “Fuck yeah I need another chilidog. Trade you for this coffee I’ve been holding this whole time like a dumbass.” He could sure as hell use a distraction right now. The chilidog’s a little on the cold side, but still _damn _delicious. Tim seems equally delighted with the lukewarm coffee. He should’ve known Timmy would grow up into a coffee-monster. He always did love staying up too late; he probably took to caffeine like a fish to water.

Well, that just means coffee dates are going to be a thing for them. He smirks at the memory of that _kiss, _holy shit. That was… He stares into space for a moment, face heating at the memory. Then stops himself, if only to spare himself the embarrassment of needing to adjust his pants in front of the entire damn Coven.

Now if only they could get a minute alone to actually _talk _about things—

“Jay!” Dick’s voice draws his attention back to the others. Jason sighs. _Yeah, not gonna get any time alone for a while. Whatever, we’ll make up for it later._

Bruce seems to be attempting, poorly, to instruct Damian in normal human affection while Steph snickers and Cass silently observes. Dick beckons him nearer. “Dami needs a little demonstration, and we just got you back from the dead after having to live without you for _years. _I think this situation definitely calls for a group hug!”

_Oh shit._

Jason’s eyes widen. He immediately grabs Tim and starts to backpedal, but Dick is relentless. The older man snags Steph, who catches Cass by the hand, and the three of them spread out to trap and wrap the pair in an all-encompassing hug. Damian is caught up in the skirmish and ends up squirming in the center, thankfully _not _attempting to bite his way free this time.

A moment later, Bruce’s large arms join the group, somehow encircling them all in his warm, strong embrace. It feels like safety.

It’s stupid, but it feels so damn _good._

Maybe he’ll still have the occasional doubt as to his place in the group, but time and the reassurance of the links should take care of that. _I’m home, _he thinks, and something settles in his heart at the thought.

Tim squeaks plaintively from somewhere in the middle of the group hug. Jason manages to catch hold of one slim hand, still possessively clasping a coffee cup, and uses it to tug him out of the tangled mass and pull him protectively close. Smiling, he buries his nose in Tim’s soft black hair and just breathes.

_We both are._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tim, surrounded by gaping Coven all overwhelmed with hope and fear at sight of living Jason: ** *Extends armful of chilidogs* “Hi guys!”  
**Bruce, opening mouth to demand exhaustive tests to verify Jason’s identity: ** *Gags slightly as Tim shoves in a chilidog, narrows his eyes but chews*  
**Dick, sparkling with nature magic: ** *Checks and heals both teens, confirms Jason’s identity in the process* “Yay!”  
**Bruce, eyeing the shadows with suspicion: ** “There’s something over there! Get back, boys!” *Reaches carefully into shadows, is bitten by a snarling Damian* “Gah! Get it off!” *Shakes hand back and forth trying to dislodge child*  
**Damian, unlocking his jaw and grinning toothily: ** “Greetings, Father!”  
**Bruce, stunned into silence: ** “…”  
**Steph, loudly eating popcorn: ** “This is the shit” *Passes bag down to Tim and Jason, who hand it to Cass and Dick before Bruce recovers from the shock sufficiently to word again*  
**Bruce, attempting to parent: ** “Biting is unacceptable behavior, son” *Smirks* “THIS is the correct method of demonstrating affection” *Initiates group hug, chuckles as his other children all fail to escape Dick’s numerous tentacles*


	6. Chapter 6

“These readings are _fascinating,” _Babs murmurs, her lovely face lit by the glow of the screens and holograms surrounding her. Measurements and data whiz by almost too fast for the eye to see. Tim twitches his fingers, slowing the feed down for a moment to take in a particularly interesting recording.

A faint sound draws his attention to Bruce’s workstation, where various commonly used potion ingredients, bunches of rare herbs, and other spell components are laid out in meticulous order. The most dangerous are always kept under lock and key, but even just what’s on the desk right now could be used to create a powerful barrier spell, a potion to render a dozen people temporarily unconscious, or a devastating Lethe spell to erase or alter memories.

_Well, we wouldn’t want _that, _now would we…?_

Tim surreptitiously sends a casual glance around the room. No one seems to have noticed how many of the ingredients that should be there are now missing. Good.

Someone could easily use those spells and potions to overthrow or take control of the entire Coven, if they wanted. The thought renders him slightly uneasy, but he can’t quite push it from his mind. He stares at the remaining ingredients for a long moment, a frown slowly growing on his face as he considers several possibilities. A beat later he inhales slowly, then returns his focus to the matter at hand.

_Better not to draw attention to _that _just yet. Got to bide my time…_

Tim shakes off his troubling mood and dives back into the excitement of learning about his and Jason’s bond.

Waiting until they were back at the Cave to conduct tests on their bond was such a great idea. There’s nothing quite like technomancy for recording and correlating results. Plus, he’s pretty sure Jason would have actually thrown him over his shoulder and physically carried him from Ra’s al Ghul’s lair if he had tried to perform any more experiments last night. Which, fair. Priorities.

And the data they’re getting is _amazing._

He blinks, the implication of the recordings only now beginning to dawn on him.

“Wait, so Jay and I are actually drawing from a shared pool of magic now?” He’s never even heard of something like this before. Tim leans in closer, watching raptly as Babs makes a pulling motion with her fingers and delicately lifts the readings from the screen into the air. She releases them there to join the other holograms surrounding them.

“That’s what it looks like to me. Not only are you definitely sharing powers, including Jason’s physical healing, your resistance to toxins, and even your natural inclination for technomancy—” she glances over at Jason, who is currently staring in wonder at his own circle of faintly glowing holograms, twitching his fingers experimentally and then jerking back in shock when the display shifts in response, “—your innate magic is so inextricably linked together, the instruments are registering it as a single entity.”

Well, that’s a little unexpected. “So, we really are soul-bound, then.” Magic, of course, emanates directly from the soul. To be so intimately joined with another… Tim blushes. Well, he’s definitely glad it’s Jason. He could’ve done a _lot_ worse.

Looking over at the older teen, who is still studying his new abilities with an excited grin as he gets the holograms to obey him, he experiences a moment of sheer overwhelming gratitude. Troubling thoughts and annoying little potential problems cropping up or not, he’s so glad to be home.

_I can’t quite believe this is actually happening. Being rescued, Jason being _alive, _sleeping last night in my own bed… It still feels like I could wake up at any moment and find myself hanging there in Ra’s al Ghul’s lair, hallucinating all of this from the blood loss. But it’s definitely real. Even my imagination couldn’t have come up with something as incredible as this._

He feels the pricking sensation of someone watching him and glances up only to see Damian quickly turning away. The little demon child melts into the shadows, but not before Tim’s eyes narrow. Yes, that’s definitely going to be a problem before too long. Well, he can deal with it.

Tim shakes his head slightly and forces himself to look away. It wouldn’t do for the baby demon to grow suspicious of him, not yet.

“Wow, Jay, you can do _technomancy _now?” Dick’s ebullient voice scatters his thoughts and he turns, blinking, to see his older brother descending the stairs into the Cave carrying a tray loaded with refreshments. Alfred is following close behind, another tray held in the old druid’s steady hands.

At the interruption, Jason startles and the holograms surrounding him scatter, dissolving into the air. He scowls. “Damn it, Dickhead!”

Dick gives him an apologetic grin. Babs rises from her chair, sweeping a hand to dismiss their findings for the time being as she smiles reassurance at the sight of Jason’s frustration. “You’ll get the hang of it, Jay. You’re already picking this up faster than anyone I’ve ever trained, barring Tim.” She and Dick both hover near their long-lost brother, clearly not ready to give him space. It’s possible that, like Tim, they’re half-afraid if they leave him it’ll all turn out to have been a dream.

_It’s going to take everyone a while to get used to him being back. Well, maybe I can take advantage of the distraction provided by his presence to… take _care _of some things._

Tim lifts an eyebrow, lost in his thoughts until the old druid clears his throat, gently catching their attention.

Alfred lowers his tray onto a cleared space on the desk and then works to distribute what turns out to be a refreshing assortment of beverages, fruit, tiny sandwiches, and several varieties of cookies. “Excellent. In that case, it will by no means harm Master Jason’s progress to take a brief break.” His tone leaves no room for argument and everyone immediately reaches to partake of the delicious snacks. “After all, we are still celebrating his miraculous return to us.” The old man’s expression softens as he gazes fondly down on his once-lost grandson.

Tim savors the soft bread, crisp greens, flavorful meat, and spicy mustard as he bites in.

_Damn, this tastes even better than usual, knowing I might never have been able to taste anything again if what Ra’s had planned actually happened._

He shakes his head, pushing away the memories of his assault and near-undeath. The simple pleasures of family, food, and an interesting intellectual puzzle to solve have already gone a long way toward helping him feel safe again. Even if there a few complications to iron out before he can be completely comfortable.

Well, he can handle those. Probably.

A warm, steady presence at his side makes him look up. There’s Jason, arm brushing against his as he reaches to grab a sandwich of his own. The older teen stays close, the reassurance of his presence and steady glow of his affection and happiness in the back of Tim’s mind like a torch keeping the darkness at bay.

Their bond has been strengthening; already, the emotions coming through the soul-bond are both stronger and more nuanced than those he receives from the Coven’s links. It’s interesting, the way it’s been developing. He keeps receiving little waves of anxiety and concern from Jason, probably related to his worry about rejoining the Coven after so long apart.

_It’ll be okay, Jason. You’ll see. _

“You’re worrying about somethin’,” Jason says, eyeing him in a measuring way. “Our soul-bond bullshit ain’t advanced enough yet for me to know if you’re just itching to get back to the technomancy or if it’s something more important.” He smirks. “Hell, for all I know you just gotta take a dump.”

Tim snorts and then chokes on his bite of sandwich. “Oh my _god,” _he whispers, glancing around to make sure everyone else is too involved in their own conversations to have overheard Jason being embarrassing. _“No._ Just thinking about… stuff.”

_I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you about this, Jay. That… would not go over well. Besides, I can tell from the bond that _you’re _really anxious about something right now and I don’t want to add to it. Don’t worry, though, I’ll take care of everything. We’ll be just fine._

Grinning, Jason thumps him gently on the back. “Sorry, Timmy, I couldn’t help it. You’re just so cute when you blush.”

Flushing harder, Tim reaches up to touch his hot cheek. _Stupid pale skin that shows everything._

A scuffle draws their attention back to the others, where Damian appears to be skittering around underfoot, snapping at anyone who reaches for him. “I shall _not _apologize! Grayson clearly attempted to strangle me _again—”_

Dick answers, sounding aggrieved, “How many times do I have to tell you, that was a _hug—”_

The demon child snorts derisively, bridling. “Impossible! No hug should involve that many limbs! Are you certain you are not part Cthulhu?”

“Well...” Dick shifts from one foot to the other, looking away.

_Wait, what?_

Tim blinks. In all his research, he’s never come up with anything other than mixed human and dryad heritage for his oldest brother. If this is true… Well, that’s definitely going to open up some new possibilities for training, battles, and even just opportunities for research here in the Cave. “Seriously?”

“Dick?” Even Babs looks mildly surprised. Which, considering her depth and breadth of knowledge, is _very _unusual.

The man in question just shrugs with an abashed smile. “It’s hardly enough to matter? Like, one sixty-fourth or thereabouts. Seriously, it’s just _barely _enough to manifest the sensation of extra limbs when I get really excited.”

Tim’s mouth drops open slightly in shock, memories of many enveloping hugs which seemed humanly impossible at the time suddenly flooding his mind as puzzle pieces click together. “Oh my god, that actually makes so much sense!”

Jason smirks, then grins like a bastard. Tim’s eyes widen and he quickly checks the Cave for Damian, ready to risk life and limb to cover the little brat’s impressionable ears if necessary, but fortunately he seems to have slipped away. Good, because whatever the older teen is about to say is definitely not going to be fit for children.

“Extra limbs when you get _real excited? _Damn, Dickie, no wonder you landed Kori if you’re able to—”

Dick turns bright red and slams a hand over Jason’s mouth, apparently not ready to discuss whatever it is he does with his beautiful fire elemental girlfriend with any of his siblings.

_Fair enough._

Tim snickers and Babs laughs out loud, then looks curious. “Hey, Dick, if you have a few minutes, Tim’s at the data crunching stage of figuring out the exact parameters of his soul-bond. I can run those analyses in my sleep, so I have some time right now. I only have theoretical experience with extra-dimensional eldritch horrors and I would _love _to get some readings as a baseline…”

Dick shrugs and nods, clearly fine with hanging out for a while. He’s probably just glad to have an excuse to linger near Jason. Well, he’s not alone in that.

Everyone’s been drifting in and out of the Cave all morning, taking advantage of the chance to spend time with their recently rescued Coven members. Steph, Cass, and Bruce will probably be back soon, as well.

Good. That will work out well for his… _plans._

Tim turns to see Jason still chuckling and leans into his side, receiving an arm across his shoulder for his effort. He rests his head against his broad, strong chest for a moment. From everything they gathered this morning, the bond between them is a good thing, likely to benefit both of them in the long run. It could very well save and extend their lives, even.

Heart lightened at having proof that what happened to them isn’t hurting his newly-regained best friend, he smiles. Then frowns, focus returning to the other little matter that has been preying on his mind.

_It’s just about time to take care of that._

Tim narrows his eyes, then smirks.

* * *

Jason holds Tim close, shoveling in another one of Alfie’s incredible little sandwiches—_damn, _he’d missed those—while puzzling over the troubling emotions he keeps picking up from his soulmate. Their bond seems to be gradually growing in strength, emotions coming through clearer and clearer with time. It feels similar to the Coven links in some ways, but there’s an immediacy and clarity to the feelings conveyed through the bond that marks it as different.

Also, he hasn’t figured out how to suppress it yet. At least with Coven links, it’s possible to mute certain emotions and feelings at will, and thank fuck for that. He does _not _need his dad knowing every time he decides to have a little Jason time in the shower. Tim, on the other hand…

Well. That’s different. He smirks, imagining in vivid detail the kinds of things they could maybe get up to using their bond to amplify and share what they’re feeling. Fuck yeah. That would be incredible, considering the shared emotions are _intense. _

Which unfortunately isn’t such a great thing at the moment, considering he keeps getting flashes of something _dark. _Betrayal, deception, and an emotion he isn’t sure about, but his mind keeps categorizing as _laying in wait. _It kind of reminds him of watching a cat stalking a mouse. Whatever it is, it doesn’t bode well.

The biggest concern though is _when _these little flashes of wrong are coming through. He first noticed them while Tim was looking at the soul-bond data with Babs, and they’ve been flickering through every so often since then. Noticeably, the negative emotions seem to be happening whenever Babs or someone else asks whether the bond is dangerous.

_Shit. This… ain’t lookin’ good. God damn it._

It’s starting to look like he was maybe a little too quick to take Timmy’s word that the ceremony Ra’s was attempting had no negative side effects. Which… is just about the worst possible thing he could learn right now. But if Tim is compromised, possibly to the point he might act to harm someone…

_Fuck. The last thing I want to do is hafta fight Tim. But what if… What if this _isn’t _really Tim anymore? Or… Maybe Ra’s just has a foot in the door, so to speak? Like, influencing him, and that’s why the bad feelings just keep flickering in and out?_

Tim shifts at his side. “I’m going to go keep an eye on things,” he murmurs with a fond smile. He squeezes Jason’s hand before stepping away to get a better look at whatever the fuck Babs is doing. She’s got Dick walking on his hands right now, holograms mapping out a shitload of extra limbs in the air around him, and everyone else is watching in avid interest.

Even the little demon brat has returned, viewing the proceedings from the relative safety of one of the alcoves where they lock down the rarest and most powerful spell ingredients. “Precisely how many extradimensional appendages can you manifest at once, Grayson? This… _talent…_ was not one which Mother included in her lists during her instruction on the strengths and weaknesses of each Coven member.” His little tail switches back and forth as he leans forward, eyes bright with interest.

Their older brother cranes his neck back to look up, grinning. “Oh, that depends! I think it mostly has to do with what my need is at the time. Like, five or six extra arms for a group hug, more if I’m trying to save someone from falling. I don’t really know, it’s not like I’ve ever had someone do tests on it before.”

Dick twists impossibly before rising to his feet to demonstrate, stepping forward to hug Steph and Cass as the girls enter the Cave, apparently in pursuit of snacks. Puzzled but obliging, they immediately return the hug and then eye Babs with curious interest as she excitedly moves forward to begin collecting readings.

Damian, still somewhat shy around so many people, skulks further back into the alcove.

The dark feelings from the soul-bond spike and Jason hisses under his breath, barely suppressing a curse.

_Can’t I just have a goddamn day off to enjoy being home and having a maybe-boyfriend? If this fucking ends with me having to _hurt_ Tim, I swear I’ll resurrect Ra’s myself just so I can kill him again and take a dump on his ashes this time. Bastard._

As Jason watches, his heart sick with worry, Tim wanders over to where some of their soul-bond measurements are rotating slowly through the air, arcane tests and analyses slowly compiling additional data. From there, he also has a great view of the rest of the Cave. Jason can’t help but notice the way his gaze darts over everyone, an uncomfortably calculating look in his eyes, before he focuses on the readings. He reaches out and idly manipulates the data, doing fuck knows what as the dark feelings spike again over the bond. This time, there’s a strong sense of determination and intent underlying the surficial feelings of deception and betrayal. He has the distinct impression of planning, as well.

_God damn it, _Jason thinks viciously, _I’m gonna hafta take him down, aren’t I? And not in the fun way I was hoping we’d work up to, after some more coffee dates or whatever._

He was an idiot to think his life might actually be coming together, that he might be able to have his family and someone as amazing as Tim. Of fucking course, everything’s already falling apart.

Jason stares broodingly at Tim, who is in turn watching the rest of the Coven and plotting something so inimical the feelings of darkness wrap around Jason’s heart like a vise. He has to look away just to reign in his own emotional response to those sensations, coming as they are from the kid who used to look up to him, his best friend.

The one who grew up into someone he had just begun to think, to _hope, _he might actually be able to keep.

In that moment, something inside him snaps.

_Like _hell _I’m gonna let Ra’s al Ghul’s goddamn ghost possess him, or influence him, or whatever the fuck is going on here. I’m gonna save Tim or die trying._

Without knowing exactly what’s going on, he’s hesitant to bring anyone else into it. If the situation escalates, there’s no telling what kind of damage the Coven and Tim might do to each other in the heat of the moment. Tim’s a damn good technomancer, with a decent education as a battle-mage under his belt to boot. The mages, witches, and various magical practitioners who make up the rest of the Coven are, each in their own way, dangerous as hell. Fuck knows what Ra’s might add to the equation.

And…

What if Tim is possessed by Ra’s, and Bruce decides he can’t be saved?

_No! _The visceral depth of his own denial rocks him, and he wonders just when he handed the younger boy the keys to his heart. Probably way back when they were just a couple of brats, playing at spells together and never realizing how the real magic was in the power of their goddamn friendship or some shit.

Fuck, he’s a sap.

As Jason scrambles for some semblance of a plan, preferably one that doesn’t end with anyone seriously injured or dead, he abruptly realizes he’s out of time. Because that determination he’s been sensing in the back of his mind just crystallized into _action._

When he looks up, Tim’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tim, enjoying playing with technomancy in the Cave with Babs for SCIENCE: ** “Yay! Our soul-bond is just as awesome as I predicted!” *Unwittingly sends massive amounts of super-disturbing feelings along said soul-bond*  
**Jason, receiving those dark feelings and growing increasingly unnerved: ** “…Yes. Awesome” *Chuckles weakly, desperately tries to convince himself there’s nothing wrong*  
**Dick, overcome with joy: ** *manifests a hundred tentacles* “Oh btw did I ever mention I’m part Cthulhu?”  
**Everyone else, distracted by SCIENCE: ** “What no, let’s study the hell out of this!”  
**Jason, looking around for Tim to try to reassure himself his soul-bound partner isn’t possessed by Ra’s or something: ** *Fails to find him, notices a shitload of rare, powerful spell ingredients are also missing* “Fml”


	7. Chapter 7

Jason barely catches a glimpse of Tim’s back as he slips stealthily away, heading down one of the many side-tunnels which branch away from the main Cave. He rapidly follows, unease growing as he turns over possible courses of action in his mind. The problem is, none of his go-to spells are strong enough to stop Tim without also _hurting _him, and that’s still not something he’s willing to risk.

_Well, guess this is one of the downsides of training with a battle mage. Most of my arsenal is a little rough to use on an ally who’s probably only going rogue against his will._

He digs his hands into his pockets and is surprised to feel some unfamiliar lumps there. Then he remembers—he still has a few of the enchanted items he’d lifted from the lich armory last night and then hadn’t gotten around to using during the battle. And there’s one, an amulet, that just might be of use in this situation. His lips curl into a half-smile.

Well, maybe this’ll work. It’s a hell of a lot better than nothing anyway.

The sound of voices echoing back along the tunnel catches Jason’s attention and he pauses for a moment to cast a quick silencing spell over himself. No reason to give his presence away before he’s ready. After all, he’s only got one hit, so he needs to make it count.

The voices rise in what sounds like an argument, still indistinct and distorted by the echoes of the cave. Jason frowns, trying to remember if everyone was in the main Cave when he left. Dick and the girls had definitely still been conducting experiments, Alfred watching benevolently. Bruce, who had wandered in shortly after the girls, had been hovering awkwardly nearby…

_Wait, where the fuck was the brat?_

Heart suddenly racing as his imagination floods with nightmarish images—Tim, possessed by Ra’s and luring Damian away to subvert him as well, or maybe Tim just heavily influenced by the former lich king and skulking around picking them off one by one whenever the darkness in his mind grows to be too much for him to stave off—Jason starts running, trying to chase those thoughts from his head.

It isn’t working very well, probably because those damn dark thoughts are slamming around in there, spilling over from Tim through their bond.

Betrayal, anger, sorrow, determination and… fear?

He doesn’t know what the fuck is going on at the end of this tunnel, but it sure as hell doesn’t seem good. And now he can hear evidence of pursuit, the rest of the Coven apparently having noticed his abrupt departure.

_Shit. I gotta handle this before they get there. At least if I have him immobilized, they won’t do anything hasty. Probably._

Tightening his grip on the enchanted amulet in his pocket, he bursts around the final bend.

And gasps in shock at the sight which greets him. The tunnel truncates in a small, unimproved cavern, maybe ten square meters in size, with rough, native rock rising high overhead, stalactites hanging down. Damian is snarling, little fangs bared defensively as he appears to be attempting to fend Tim off. He’s manifested his claws and a pair of leathery, graceful wings, probably in a thwarted effort to fly overhead out of his attacker’s reach. It looks like he’s losing the battle.

“Tim, _no!” _Jason yells as his best friend leans over his little brother, muttering something ominous while releasing a handful of powder which ignites in a terrible, sparking cloud around the child. “God _damn _it, you don’t wanna do this!”

He throws his amulet, sending all his innate magic into it in an attempt to force it to act well beyond its design parameters. After all, who knows how powerful whatever’s possessing Tim is? A standard containment spell might not hold.

Miraculously, the damn thing lands, a golden cage of light springing into existence around Tim who goes still, apparently unable to move beyond the bounds of his confinement.

_Thank fuck._

Jason turns to the kid, hoping against hope whatever shit Tim cast on him wasn’t too damaging. If he seriously injured the boy or… or _worse, _there’s no way everything’s going to be okay. But…

He is in no way prepared for what he sees.

The brat’s clawing at the cage around Tim. “Damn you, Todd! He’s about to manifest, and now we aren’t going to be able to fight him! _Drake _had promised to perform the containment spell, but he only got as far as the summoning portion before _you _decided to intervene! You blithering nincompoop, what were you _thinking?!”_

_What. The. Fuck?_

Jason stares at the furious, frustrated demon brat for about a second before he gets distracted by more pressing matters. The remainder of the sparking cloud of smoke is coalescing, in the form of… a book? Oh, and a human-shaped blob that’s already starting to look way the hell too damned familiar. He has a horrible feeling it’s going to end up being _Ra’s al fuckin’ Ghul. _Of fucking _course._

_Doesn’t even have the damned decency to fuckin’ _stay dead. _I’m definitely taking a dump in the remains this time, pissing on his ashes was too good for him._

He drags the kid behind himself, squaring off against the threat. “Get down!” He’s a phoenix, so even if his only use here is as a meat-shield, at least he can save the kid.

“Great barrier spell, by the way,” Tim says conversationally from within his golden cage, tension in his voice. “Any chance you could maybe _take it down _before he finishes manifesting?” As he speaks, he tests the boundaries of his cage, casting a few experimental spells and then trying to shove what looks like a bunch of potion ingredients out between the bars. Nothing works. “Damn it! I can’t even give you what you need to contain him!” He’s starting to look more and more frantic, and Jason feels like an entire bag of dicks.

Whatever the fuck is going on here, it’s clear he misunderstood, and now his actions are about to have potentially dire consequences.

Jason rubs the back of his neck with his hand and shifts from one foot to the other. “Yeah, about that…” He winces. “This is one of the amulets I stole from al Ghul’s armory. I got no fuckin’ clue how to turn it off?”

Damian waves his small, clawed hands through the air, scowling impressively and stomping one tiny foot while his wings tremble with rage. “Todd, you imbecile! Now, thanks to _you,_ Grandfather will be able to successfully perform the ceremony to take over my body!”

_…The fuck? That doesn’t sound good._

His gaze is drawn to where the slowly coalescing form hovering over the book on the floor in the center of the room is beginning to gain recognizable features, and he swallows. “Well, looks like we’re about outta time. It’s too late to panic now.”

Tim whips his head back to stare at up at him, a worryingly manic look in his expressive blue eyes. “It’s_ never_ too late to panic!”

As the nightmarish form in the center of the room turns to face them with Ra’s al Ghul’s inimical smirk, Jason finds that he is in complete agreement.

Panicking seems like a reasonable response right about now.

* * *

Tim writhes against the barrier spell, desperately seeking any weakness in the magic which has him trapped as his greatest enemy slowly materializes before him. This is like the worst kind of nightmare. He hadn’t anticipated Jason following him, and he definitely hadn’t foreseen the older teen interpreting his attempt to help Damian subdue the grimoire as some kind of attack.

_I _knew _I should have found a way to tell Jason… only how? When? I only started to really suspect something was wrong myself while we were in the Cave after I saw Damian take those items from Bruce’s desk. There was no way I could say anything about it in there without giving it away. Especially when I still wasn’t sure exactly what Damian had planned when he stole those potion ingredients—work against the Coven, or for us. I couldn’t risk saying anything with him around, not when there was a possibility someone _else _was listening._

_It could’ve gone either way, right up until I got here and realized Damian was definitely trying to exorcise the evil, not help it._

He hadn’t had a chance to get the whole story out of Damian, having barely arrived himself in time to offer his own help with the dangerous ritual the boy was planning to perform, but he knows they have to stop the former lich _now. _Everything’s moving too fast, his understanding of the situation barely keeping up with events, let alone forming adequate contingencies.

_If Ra’s manages to possess Damian’s body… He’ll be immensely more powerful. He’d want vengeance for what we did. And… Even if we managed to beat him, I don’t know if we’d ever be able to get _Damian _back. His soul might end up being consumed in the process. _

The vaporous lich takes in their current positions, Tim trapped in an invulnerable cage, Jason trying to protect the little demon child, and the young boy practically vibrating with the dual desires to fight and flee_. _Even if both of them battle with everything they have, it might not be enough.

Tim should’ve planned this better, figured out _something. _A warning system, at least, in case something went wrong when he followed Damian from the Cave. Then they might have backup right now. If only the others were here…

He hadn’t planned on being caught in a barrier spell himself and entirely ineffectual. All of his plans relied on him at least being able to do something.

Tim bares his teeth, furious and frustrated, then realizes the faint pounding sound he’s been aware of for a while now is growing louder. He jerks his head around to face the tunnel, where Steph and Cass both burst into view a moment later. The girls stare for a second, eyes widening, before springing into action.

They immediately react to the presence of evil, Steph transforming into her saber-toothed tiger form and viciously attacking the physical manifestation of Ra’s al Ghul while Cass moves lightly through her intricate spell forms, binding the evil being with her impeccable witchcraft. Dick arrives a moment later, taking in the scene before hurrying to check on his brothers.

Tim can sense the gathering power of Bruce’s approach, which means he must have left Babs and Alfred behind to defend the Cave. Relief swells within him as he really begins to believe they’re going to be able to squeak through okay.

“What the _hell _is going on here?” Bruce enters the chamber fully warded, offensive spells automatically seeking and attacking the foreign magic in the room. Which, amusingly, apparently includes the cage of light binding Tim. It dissolves under the onslaught of the battle mage’s aura of magic, finally freeing him.

“Thanks, B!” He hurries over to finish what Jason’s untimely arrival interrupted earlier. It looks like the others have the physical manifestations well in hand, so he doesn’t bother with binding Ra’s or the grimoire. “Anyone up for a little light exorcism?”

Bruce’s expression darkens as his eyes light with comprehension. “That book,” he growls, staring at the offending item lying on the ground, currently pinned by seven beams of conjured moonlight, courtesy of Cass. “It’s a grimoire, isn’t it?”

Tim glances over to Damian, raising a brow. The little demon bows his head guiltily, tiny curled horns peeking out from his dark hair. “Yes, Father,” the child whispers, clenching his hands at his sides. “It was Grandfather’s. I took it with me when we left his lair, hidden in my pocket dimension so none would suspect.” He scowls darkly and folds his arms over his chest.

Okay, so this is where Tim’s understanding of what the heck is going on is a little hazy too. _“Why?” _It was obvious the little boy was trying to destroy the book when he found him, having released his full demonic form to access his true power for the task. But why would he even bother to bring it along if he knew it was possessed?

Jason glares around the room. “Yeah, what the _fuck, _kid? You guys both had me thinkin’ _Timmy _was possessed, he was acting so weird!”

_Oops, _Tim thinks guiltily. _Well, at least that explains why he bound me the second he showed up. Sorry, Jay._

Damian bites his lip. “It was… an accident. I thought—I _hoped _I could use it to destroy Grandfather’s hold on me.”

_Wait, what?_

“You told us there was none of his magic in you,” Tim says slowly, brows drawing together in concern. “That was why you weren’t harmed when everything his magic touched was destroyed.”

The little boy opens his mouth to respond, an expression of distress on his face, when Bruce suddenly inhales sharply.

“My god,” he chokes out. “I should have seen this before.” Kneeling at the child’s side, he waves a hand and casts something which illuminates a series of tiny, near-invisible threads, binding the boy to the grimoire.

Damian blinks at them, green eyes wide and worried. “Grandfather enchanted this grimoire using only magic stolen from others, in order to separate it from his own magical core. I believe he did so in case of just such a mishap as that which occurred due to the bumbling ineptitude of my brothers.”

Jason frowns. “Wait, if he was using some other poor sap’s magic, then how the hell did he manage to anchor his own will to the damn grimoire in the first place? And why the _fuck _are _you_ tied to it, too?”

The little boy blinks up at them. “Oh, he made the grimoire from his own skin. And he tied me to it using stolen magic, so that he could put his own will into my body if he should ever lose his own corporeal form.” He droops sadly. “I suspect that was the true reason he allowed Mother to make me.”

Dick gasps, Tim bites back a protesting noise, and Steph growls while swiping viciously at the smoky apparition of Ra’s al Ghul, which glares at her silently, apparently unable to interact with any of them. Good. The shadows in the room waver sharply, Cass briefly slipping in her control over her reaper abilities at the child’s revelation.

“And Talia… was _okay _with that?” Tim probably shouldn’t ask, but the question slips out before he can hold it back. If the little boy’s own _mother _allowed such an atrocity…

“No! Of course not, she only noticed the links when she felt Grandfather’s magic failing and performed a last check to make sure I would be safe when she returned to Hell. In her final earthly act, she handed me the grimoire and told me I must destroy it, or risk him reincarnating himself in my body.” He shifts uncomfortably. “I stole the potion ingredients to try and do so. Drake noticed. He followed me when I left to perform the spell. I should have waited longer, but I feared doing so would allow Grandfather greater foothold and perhaps I would lose my chance, and my soul, entirely.”

Well, that’s horrific. Poor kid.

Bruce is frowning, staring at the little boy as though he’s a puzzle to be figured out. “Why didn’t you simply tell Jason and Tim earlier, or the rest of us when we met last night? You should have brought this to our attention immediately so we could deal with it.”

The little demon’s wings tremble and his tail switches back and forth on the floor, showing his discomfiture. “I thought you wouldn’t want me if you knew,” he whispers, something like shame on his face. “You did not ask for me to be here, and now I’m causing trouble—”

Bruce looks horrified, Jason’s gaping, and Dick is visibly restraining himself from enveloping the child in a hug. Steph’s just been lying on the ground, idly clawing at the apparition of Ra’s every once in a while, but now she looks like she wants to rip the former lich to shreds for what he did to his grandson. The shadows in the cavern twist again, and suddenly Ra’s and the grimoire wink entirely out of existence.

_Wait, no one performed an exorcism yet… _Tim blinks. _“Cass?”_

The witch tilts her head, acknowledging him. “Reaper power… bad. Still too good for _him.” _She glares fiercely at the spot where the essence of Ra’s al Ghul’s will had been, clearly wishing she could do worse than… whatever she just did.

Tim gulps. His Coven can be _really _scary sometimes.

Jason whistles. “Damn, that was cool. My only regret is I didn’t get to take a steaming _dump_ on his corpse this time around.”

_Oh my god, gross, Jason. But hilarious._

Bruce and Dick send him disgruntled looks of disgust as Tim stifles a slightly hysterical laugh and Damian looks mildly interested. “Is this a common act of retaliation amongst our Coven? Should I engage in this practice as well?”

Steph involuntarily transforms back into a human, she’s laughing so hard. “Yeah, kiddo, you do that.”

Dick rolls his eyes, nudging her remonstratively with his foot. “No, Damian, Jason’s the only one who—_apparently?—_does _that._ You, uh, _definitely_ shouldn’t emulate him,” he says, still eyeing Jason in horrified bafflement.

Damian looks down at his feet guiltily, even his tiny tail drooping and downcast. “I apologize for introducing such a potentially devastating item into your home, Father. I shall leave, of course—” He cuts off abruptly as multiple voices rise in protest.

“You’re not going anywhere, brat. You think this is the worst shit any of us ever brought home?” Jason snorts, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I once brought a basilisk into the Manor and hid it under my bed in a shoebox because I wanted a pet lizard!” Dick grins. “Poor Alfred almost had a heart attack when he found it, and to this day we’re _still _not sure why it didn’t turn me to stone. Guess it’s just my natural charm!”

Tim narrows his eyes, muttering. “Or maybe it was your secret _Cthulhu _heritage that you never saw fit to mention before.”

It was definitely that.

Dick just laughs, finally gathering Damian into the hug he’s so obviously in need of. Bruce moves forward and draws them both away, probably intending to lead them back to the Cave where Alfred and Dick can administer a complete physical and magical evaluation to make sure Damian is entirely free of Ra’s al Ghul’s influence, and safe. And then hot cocoa, for good measure.

Steph and Cass just glance toward Tim and Jason, then slip away as well.

Tim folds his arms over his chest, feeling guilty and responsible. He’s sorry that he didn’t tell Jason, but he didn’t want the grimoire to catch on that he suspected. _If only our soul-bond were advanced enough to communicate mentally, _he thinks sadly.

_The fuck? _Jason replies inside his head.

Tim stares at him, mute with shock. _Um… Holy shit._

Jason’s eyes widen. “Wait, did I just hear you say that _in my mind?”_ He blinks, then replies in a very clear mental voice. _Well, that’s gonna take some getting used to._

“I think we’ll be able to fine tune it, with practice?” Tim offers hesitantly. “Learn to just send when we want to, that kind of thing.”

“Fuck it, I don’t even give a shit at this point.” In a quick burst of emotions and mental explanations, Jason pushes his experiences of the past hour to him. Overwhelmed, Tim gasps in shock. Apparently he’d been projecting way more than he realized, and the worry and anxiety he’d been picking up from Jason wasn’t due to the other teen’s nervousness at rejoining the Coven—it was because of _him._

Oops.

“Oh _no! _I had no idea you were picking up so much of my suspicions and bad feelings. I was just worried Damian was going to do something dangerous, and I didn’t want to give away that I was suspicious where he, or any _passengers _he might have, could overhear.” Tim feels awful about having scared his maybe-almost boyfriend so badly. _Best friend? Boyfriend? Soulmate? I wish I had a word for what we are._

Jason’s deep voice answers in his mind, tender and fond. _Those all sound good to me, Timmy._

_Well then. _Tim smiles, and steps into his boyfriend’s embrace. _I think we have some catching up to do._

_Fuck yeah, _Jason answers, wrapping his arms around him. _Let’s get started on that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Jason, tailing Tim and bursting in just as he’s apparently busy viciously attacking Damian: ** “Oh fuck, NO!” *Casts spell to trap Tim in magical cage, suddenly worries this will derail their budding relationship* “We’re still on for coffee later, right?”  
**Damian, furiously: ** “Todd you drooling nincompoop, Drake was HELPING me! Now there is nothing to stop Grandfather from taking over my body!”  
**Jason, baffled: ** “The FUCK—” *Spots grimoire and Ra’s al Ghul’s form manifesting nearby, realizes he’s made a horrible mistake* “Goddamnit!”  
**Everyone else, appearing out of nowhere: ** “No worries, we got this!” *Free Tim from cage, take down both Ra’s and the grimoire* “Now what to DO with him?”  
**Cass, exercising terrible, fell power to wink Ra’s al Ghul from existence: ** “Oops”  
**Tim, happy to be free from cage: ** “Yay!” *Hugs Jason in delight, thinks _damn this feels nice. I wish we were alone so I could get my hands on those thighs_*  
**Jason, grinning: ** “Fuck, this whole soul-bond thing just keeps getting better and better!” *Thinks, _that can be arranged, Babe!_* “Welp, best consummate our soul-bond now” *Laughs out loud as the rest of the Coven flees in horror at the thought* “C’mere” *Kisses Tim, grins into the kiss*  
*  
And that’s the last of my Jaytim month stories! For the bingo card, I used the diagonal row from top left to bottom right (theft, enchanted item, not what it looks like for the free space, witch, and bite).  
  
Thank you so much to everyone who has given kudos or commented, and extra thanks to the marvelous mods over at Jaytim Week for all their hard work! Also, thanks to the [Capes & Coffee Tim Drake discord server](https://discord.gg/bGhpCDn) for the sprints and betas while I was writing this.
> 
> Participating in Jaytim month has been quite an experience and it feels slightly unreal to be posting the final chapter of the last story. I hope you enjoyed the story, and thanks for reading!


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